


The Power of Five Seconds

by CrushedRose, kocuria



Series: The Value of Time [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky centric, Don't copy to another site, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I make Steve face what he has done, I say again, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Not A Fix-It, Not Steve Friendly, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Shuri Is a Good Bro, Suicidal Thoughts, Team as Family, Wanda Is A Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria
Summary: “What the fuck was I supposed to do?!” Pulling on his hair, he starts pacing around the room. “That's always been my part to play! Following you, following Steve Rogers into fights, making sure he makes it; then Captain America's sidekick, remember? The B-player, making sure that player A shines. I was always meant to be in the shadows, so what, again, I ask, was I supposed to fucking do? Ask you to stay? God, how selfish would that be of a sidekick, hey? Keeping the hero from getting the girl?"Bucky's life took on a life of its own - the last thing he really remembers is standing in the field, asking where the fight was. Now, after the fight is over, after Steve's decision, after discovering time travel is possible, he needs to find a way to move forward. Or backwards. Either way, he is not ready.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer
> 
> Although Stucky is Endgame (see what I did there :D ) it will not happen in this fic, or at least not in Part 1. Part 1 is all about Bucky and he has a brief ‘ship with another man - not a relationship, but not a ‘friends with benefits' situation either, so I’m just going to say, ‘ship. 
> 
> Okay, first of all, the whole story is already written and will be updated regularly, probably 3 times a week.
> 
> Second, this is NOT STEVE-FRIENDLY, I make him face what he's done on every level possible, and I let him see how he hurt Bucky with that decision. He is not a flat out villlian, but I am not really kind to him. Part 2 will be much more Steve-friendly, as he and Bucky move on. But not yet.
> 
> Their friendship's suffered too much.
> 
> This is 95% angst with very little light moments, I think there is a total of 3 scenes. It is dark, it is twisted, it deals with addiction, regardless of how slight. Very unhealthy coping mechanisms are shown.
> 
> If you have triggers or problems with the following, please take caution: drug and alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies and ideation. There is a suicide attempt and a major character death, but it has very specific context. I can’t give too much away without spoiling the fun, but HEED THE TAGS.
> 
> The fic has been beta'd and visuals created by kocuria.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is still blissfully in his happy bubble of getting his bread buttered on both sides, and Bucky... He is trying to make peace with the scraps left over. He can’t begrudge Steve his moment - his life - he just wishes it didn’t break his heart so much. So he's finding ways to cope.

* * *

* * *

[January]

Bucky struggles through the crowd to get to the bar. He's been in hundreds of places like this over his 70 year captivity - nightclubs were always a great way of hiding out, blending in when on a mission.

But he isn’t here on a mission, unless you count getting shitfaced and drinking the night away. This is his third break from the compound. They are rebuilding it, he and Sam, Hope and Scott and Wanda, and everyone else that wants to stay on and help. Fury and Maria, and of course _Steve_. Steve, who took a five second break and came back after 80 years of life fully lived. God, that was a shocker, but after the shit they’ve been dealt, they had to adapt very quickly and welcomed him back with open arms.

Oh, he is back, with a soft old man smile, ageing hands and a composure that was much needed in the beginning. It was a unanimous decision that he would be under Fury and Maria, or next to them, like they're some sort of triumvirate or something. Everyone trusts Steve to once again lead them, even without the shield. He is Steve and that is that.

Bucky is broken. He was shattered into all those dust pieces five years ago, and he still thinks that the pieces got somehow mixed up when he was brought back and now not everything is in its correct place. He and Shuri Skype about once a week, texting nearly every day, and she still keeps him grounded like nobody else. It's one of the reasons he's here tonight - she is the one who encourages him to find things that make him feel good, knows all about his love of dancing. 

It’s been two months since that day, the ‘lake day’ as he personally calls it. The compound is being rebuilt, the Avengers initiative is back in business, a new generation taking over. Throughout all of this, Bucky has kept it together. He does what is needed. His relationship with Steve's suffered, but apparently Bucky is the only one affected. He gets the distinct feeling that Steve doesn't really care, not nearly as much as Bucky does.

Steve is still blissfully in his happy bubble of getting his bread buttered on both sides, and Bucky... He is trying to make peace with the scraps left over. He can’t begrudge Steve his moment - his life - he just wishes it didn’t break his heart so much. So he's finding ways to cope.

This is only Bucky’s third night out - he's stayed in the compound before because he has nowhere to go. He considered going back to Wakanda where Shuri and T’Challa are busy rebuilding, but there were riots and land fights during the missing five years and his little farm has suffered. His hut was burned down with everything he accumulated in that small period of time, and his animals were stolen or taken in by other farmers. He's sad about it - he really felt he had a good thing going there and didn’t want to give it up so soon. But that was taken out of his hands - there is nothing he can do, so he just stays in the compound. He leaves only when absolutely necessary, and this weekend is one those moments.

Last time he was out he discovered he can still get drunk - it just takes more and stronger alcohol. Moonshine or vodka, anything about 40% or more, he isn't picky. The downside is that he doesn’t stay drunk for long periods of time, but the moments he gets, he treasures. It makes him feel alive like nothing else. Killing and war don’t do it for him anymore, they never really did. The only thing Bucky ever truly wanted was to stay in Brooklyn with Steve, work at the docks, pay the rent, pay for Steve’s medicine, go dancing on weekends and live a life.

Life had other ideas. If _he_ could go back in time he would change a lot. One thing would be to make sure that blasted draft letter never made it to their apartment. He would intercept that quicker than a sniper’s shot. If that letter'd never come he would never have gone to base camp, he'd never have shipped out... Steve would never have been at the expo and become a science experiment and well, as they say, the rest is history.

“Hey, why so serious?”

Bucky turns to his side where a girl is standing very close to him, her eyes looking up to his. “Sorry?” he asks. He didn’t hear her over the music, lost in his thoughts as he was. Seeing it as an invitation she leans closer to him, their bodies snug against each other. 

“I asked, why so serious, aren’t you having fun?” No, he isn’t, but that’s why he's here, to forget and to learn to live again. After all, he has nothing else. Avenging doesn’t really count and Ste…

“Well, I wasn’t till I saw you, let me buy you a drink?” He smiles and puts his hand around her waist and she buries herself deeper and smiles leading him to the bar. Maybe he can find a way to discover a small part of the old Bucky.

“I’ll have an Everclear, neat and one…” he orders and looks at her.

“Oh, a rum and coke please.” The bartender smiles and turns to Bucky.

“Everclear is quite expensive.”  
“I don’t care, I have money and I'll be ordering a lot of those, so don’t hide the bottle. In fact, how much for the whole one?” The bartender raises his eyebrows but Bucky just smiles and pulls out a roll of notes. He hands it over.

“Tell you what, keep it coming and if you need more, let me know, I have a card too.” The bartender just nods and starts to prepare their drinks.

“So Mr. Everclear, do you dance?” the girl asks with a flirtatious smile. Bucky is maybe old, but he isn’t dead and knows exactly what is on her mind, and maybe - just maybe - he doesn’t mind. Handing her her drink, he takes his and downs it in with one gulp. He smiles at her.

“Give me the first one, Doll,” he replies and pulls her close and tight against him and moves them to the dance floor. 

Sometime later Bucky is actually having fun. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this, something so spontaneous, something that made him feel so good. He's learned the new style quickly and is already quite a pro if the sideway glances are any indication. He has a few shots of Everclear in his system and can feel the buzz.

“Want something else to take the edge off?” the girl whispers in his ear after another few shots and songs. He frowns at her and watches as she pulls out a small plastic baggie out of her jean pocket.

“What’s that?” Bucky asks, seeing the small white pills, round but not perfect.

“Something that will make you very happy.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?”

“No. Your body looks happy, but your eyes say otherwise. Come on, I’ll go first, and you’ll see,” she whispers and then places a small pill on her tongue. Bucky can see the change instantly - if he thought she was supple before, now she's practically melting wax in his arms, her eyes black and dilated, her gaze intoxicated. A part of him yells that he wants it too, he wants to feel so relaxed. He almost forgot what it feels like to have no worries. The girl is smiling and happy, dancing provocatively, and his body reacts to it. It has been so long, so incredibly long... He dives right after her.

“Okay, give me.” He isn’t sure that it will do anything for him, not with the replica serum in his veins, but if there is a chance he's going to take it. She pulls out another pill and instead of putting it in his mouth, puts it on her tongue and cups his face. She leans up and he kisses her. She licks into his mouth, the pill melting on their tongues. He can feel the shift in his mind, the blood rushing in his veins, and he loves it. He wants this, all of it.

Later she leads him to the back of the club and books a room. Bucky discovers he can still feel in places that have been dormant for a long time.

The next morning she leaves behind the rest of the pills with a number in case he needs more. After he comes back to the compound he stays in his room all day, only leaving to get some food and find a liquor store to buy a few bottles of Everclear to get a head start. Tonight he's going back and tonight he wants company again. A man this time. Last night is still pulsing in his veins, the smile on his face is broad and he feels like he could just burst out laughing at any moment. He can’t remember when was the last time he felt like this, and now that he's had a taste, he wants more. Everyone is so focused on moving on, on making a future, it’s about time he joins in.

Cody catches his eye halfway through the night, a young man with indigo blue eyes and long ash blond hair. He once saw a magazine call such hair surfer looks. It's shorter than his own, but it's wavy and Bucky’s hand aches to run through it. Cody smiles coyly at him, and it takes them several minutes to get over their initial shyness and meet up on the dance floor. From then on, it's as if they can’t wait any longer. Bucky is the one to lead the way to the rooms, stumbling over his feet as they start making out in the hallway, Cody’s hands already under Bucky’s shirt. Bucky looks at him.

“Hold on.” He lifts him up with one smooth move of his metal arm. Cody wraps his legs around Bucky so they can make it to the rooms quicker. He gives a surprised yelp at being picked up so easily, but Bucky quickly drowns it out with another kiss.

Bucky remembers this night better than the one with the girl. He promises the man he will be back next weekend.

He is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an introduction to the story, it sets up Bucky’s usage of cocaine and alcohol. It isn’t the main part of the story per se, just a way for Bucky to try and cope and move on. It's a way to pull the story forward, the main focus is Bucky’s feelings about Steve’s decision, about trying to come to grips with the future ahead.  
>  This is how I see Cody (it's Alex Pettyfer in Beastly):  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can't read him like a book anymore. He had a lifetime to learn the ins and outs of _her_ and forget all about the ins and outs of _him_. Bucky's like the last dish of a five course meal - no matter how good it was, you’re just not hungry anymore. Put it in the fridge, we might make a sandwich later.

[April]

Bucky wakes up with another headache, the second one this week. After he was 'rehabilitated' and living happily on the farm with his goats and garden he thought he was rid of the constant pain. It came back with the whole cosmic war thing and the snap...

No... Not going there.

If there's one thing in his life he wishes he could forget again, it's the snap and everything thereafter. Especially the after. Especially Ste...

"Hey Barnes, you up?" Bucky turns to the door and the muffled voice behind it.

Sam he doesn't want to forget. Sam, who has been a surprisingly good friend in all of this. They spent many nights talking and just trying to deal with everything that happened. Everything that happened to Steve. One minute young and strong like them, a minute later, old and a whole lifetime under his belt. A golden ring around his finger and memories that they weren't part of. It was rough on them both, but more so on Bucky. Sam can see it and keeps it to himself, but sometimes, late at night when they both can't sleep and sit on the couch staring at the world outside, he looks at Bucky and Bucky knows Sam understands.

Sam knows, and he mourns with Bucky, mourns a life that Bucky was robbed of. Sam won't use the word 'robbed', but Bucky does, if only at 3 in the morning when he has no choice but to be honest with himself. Every time other than that he uses 'willingly submitted’.

Steve deserved a happy ending, he deserved something that was fully his own. God knows he never had anything like that. He had to fight for every scrap he got, every constricted breath. So Bucky is happy - happy that at least one of the two broken boys that lived in that shitty broken apartment got to get out. Bucky thinks he himself will always be mentally stuck in the small one bedroom flat in a wooden tenement, his knuckles scraped and his hands calloused working on the docks. The manual labourer that will always use his hands, to fight, to build, to kill, to serve.

"Hey, you awake yet?" the voice comes again, and the door opens softly.

Bucky takes a breath, pushes the covers off his body and puts his legs on the ground. "Yeah, yeah, I'm up."

"Good, cause we have an early morning scheduled."

"Oh yeah. Another Fury meeting later today."

"Yup, so get that old butt out of the bed."

"Hey, you're just jealous of my butt," Bucky grumbles but gets up and makes his way to the bathroom.

"Ah hell no, jealous of a pale white butt? While I'm walking around with this fine ass? In your dreams!" Bucky just throws him the finger and closes the bathroom door.

Bucky stands in the bathroom naked and stares at his body in the mirror. The scars are still there, faded white lines a distant reminder of what'd happened. With Shuri's help they were able to fix his arm and get some treatment that removed some of the scars, leaving only the biggest ones. The mashed skin around the metal is neater but still ugly. His eyes aren't so hollow and empty anymore, but they still don't have the light, the hope of his twenty- something- year- old self back in Brooklyn. He doesn't think he will ever have it again. That Bucky is truly gone. He's tired, so tired, and yet has to go on. These past few months have been one hell of a rollercoaster ride and Bucky wasn't really in the mood to keep up, so he just held on and rode it out without paying much attention. He sighs and reaches into the back of a small cabinet. His hands close around a small plastic container. He opens it to find five small white pills left. Enough to last him till the weekend.

One for each day. It's about time he takes another impromptu little break. No one cares what he does, and he's fine with it. It took a bit of getting used to the fact that Sam seems more concerned than Steve. Oh, didn't that hurt.

When Sam pestered him, Bucky made a joke about drinking, dancing and sex, and Sam left it alone. Steve just looked at him with a smile and said, "You always enjoyed dancing, it’s good that you're starting to live again." Bucky was taken aback - did Steve really not see the sarcasm in his answer? Did he really forget how to read him the way he always could?

And that was just one of the things that hurt Bucky - there's a lot, he can make a list. Steve's forgotten about Bucky and the faces he would present to the world. Steve can't read him like a book anymore. He had a lifetime to learn the ins and outs of _her_ and forget all about the ins and outs of _him_. He's like the last dish of a five course meal - no matter how good it was, you’re just not hungry anymore. Put it in the fridge, we might make a sandwich later.

Maybe it’s good that Steve can't read Bucky anymore, because he doesn't think he would be able to take the look in Steve's eyes if Steve knew the truth of Bucky's 'getaways'. Every getaway was a way to make peace with another thing that he couldn’t handle.

How can he tell them about that first one, when he cried and yelled at the world about how miserable his life has become? He needed to break down in private, then come back and pretend he was fine with everything. That Steve had a family outside of this compound that Bucky has never met, but Steve still visits regularly. He doesn't have a leg to stand on. After all, he made it clear that he was okay with Steve's decision. He gave his blessing, and how can he take it back afterwards?

The second getaway was when Steve agreed to be their liaison between Fury and the world that needed the Avengers. A sort of ‘boss’, a ‘commander’ so to speak. He knows so much and is the most qualified to be the Avengers’ spokesperson. So, Bucky needed his second private breakdown to make peace with the fact that instead of fighting side by side they will be connected by some sort of comm link. And even that only during the week, since Steve is spending some weekends with his other - real - family, while Bucky's away on missions. That was the time he tried to drown his sorrows and discovered that moonshine, or anything above 40% alcohol content will work. One bottle gives him an hour of bliss, not flat out drunk, just very relaxed. Two bottles get him tipsy and make him light in the head. Three bottles and he is almost able to forget his crappy life. Four...

Four is a good number. Four gives him about five to six hours of an easy heart and energy to dance again. It makes him forget about all the crap and takes things from 'surviving' to 'tolerable'.

The third time was when Steve started talking about his life with _her_ and mentioned the song at their wedding – the one to open the dance floor, the one that would stand the test of time, that would bring memories of togetherness and love and everything Bucky would never experience. The team was so happy, they all expressed their joy for the life Steve’s had. They even said they would like to meet Steve's family. Bucky was... well, he put a great game face on. Years and years of obedience gave him a poker face that would fool anybody, regardless of situation. When Steve suggested to arrange it sometime, after the compound has been rebuilt, Bucky very nearly jumped and ran away. It was only his years of training under Hydra that kept him at the table.

That getaway was a total of eight bottles and some ecstasy over a two-day period. He'd never done drugs before, but turns out it really does make you happy for a while.

Those were wild nights, but he felt good, he felt that somehow deep inside he could still be content. Relatively happy. He can do more than fight, he can still experience pleasure. It was a shame that he had to discover it with the help of drugs but in all honesty, he's still trying to learn who he is day by day.

From then on, it escalated. As long as he came back on Monday with a clear head and a smile, ready to help fix the world, no one cared. No one even blinked. Sam stopped asking, but he would still give him looks. Bucky is okay with that, looks can be easily ignored. Just throw a comment about Sam’s new Frisbee - he hates when Bucky calls the shield a Frisbee, so Bucky's going to do it, always - bicker some about food and it's back to normal. He can play this game. Shuri's harder to fool, but he makes sure to call her at the beginning of the week, when he's still sort of relaxed after the weekend. If she suspected something she'd probably drag him back to Wakanda immediately.

Bucky looks down at the pills and takes one out. One pill doesn't do much but it does take him back from the cliff's very edge to about a foot in the safe direction. He is a super soldier and it will do no harm - he's not even sure he can get addicted. He should stop, he will, as soon as he is okay with being left behind. As soon as he can look at Steve and not have an overwhelming desire to cry or run away. Putting the pill on his tongue he gets into the shower. Let another day begin.

Once that's done he picks up his phone to see a message from Shuri.

_You missed our call, White Wolf. Call me when you get this, I want to see you._

Laughing softly he presses the dial button. Shuri answers immediately

“Heya, about time. Late night?”

“Hey Princess, how are you?”

“Good, we are making excellent progress, the lake is nearly full again, so the animals are happy, the food supply is looking better as well. We are even helping neighbouring villages, this five year absence made a huge dent in resources. T'Challa says it will be about five years before the supply of food worldwide will be up to par. I'm developing seeds that can grow twice as fast, hoping to ease the transition.”

“You are amazing, you know that, right?”

“I know, but I love it with when my two brothers tell me that.”

Laughing out loud Bucky realizes he is happy, talking to her always helps. Seeing something in his face Shuri turns serious.

“What's wrong, Sergeant?”

“Bucky,” he corrects. It's usual banter between them. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Your eyes, they always tell me more than your words. How are you adjusting?”

“It's hard, but you know, it's the same for everyone else.”

“Except _him_.” Both know she means Steve.

“You're still angry at him,” Shuri states.

“Yes. So are you,” Bucky replies

“I will get over it.”

“Me too.”

Looking at each other they try to give comfort, both know nothing would really help. She leans closer to the camera.

“You look troubled, you sure you don’t want to come back?”

“I... I'm needed here, I can't abandon them now. I'll come and visit, okay?”

“Soon, or I will come and get you.”

“Soon.”

“Okay, got to go. Talk to you later?”

“Yes. Bye!”

Putting the phone down he finishes getting ready for the day.

When Bucky's dressed for the day he makes his way to the communal kitchen. The smell of food is hanging in the air, the TV plays music videos. Sam and Steve are sitting in one corner, already halfway through breakfast. Bucky takes a tray and gets his food.

The first thing they did after the dust of Thanos' armies settled down was moving back to the compound, since no one wanted to impose on Pepper’s life at the Tower too much. So the residential rooms were built and everybody got a mini apartment, just a small living room with a bedroom and an en-suite bathroom. There is also a big common room with a bigger TV, and the food is handled in the communal kitchen and the mess hall.

Next up were the gyms because training was the best way to deal with everything instead of letting the frustration out on others. Then the hangar for the Quinjet and the garage for the cars. The security hub is located in the central area of the building, and they are still busy with rewiring and laying out cameras and stuff. Bucky can help with that the most - after all, he is an expert in entering places that were deemed impenetrable. After he's done he will send in Hope and Scott with the suits and if they can’t make it, it can be considered a success.

"Bucky?" Bucky turns to the person standing next to him. Wanda looks much better than she did a few months ago. She's come so far and has so much potential, everyone here wants to help her get back on her feet after Vision's death. He can't help it, he feels a certain protective streak towards her, and he's always finding a new underdog apparently. The big brother instinct is so deep in him.

"Hey, Wanda, how are you?"

"Okay, thank you. Uhm, do you know why Fury wants a meeting with all of us this afternoon?" So far Fury only had meetings with a select few, and those few were usually Steve and Sam. Now, he wants to see them all. Sam and Steve confided in him, telling him Fury wants to get everyone on the same page, ensure that the Avengers initiative is still on the table and will be open for business, regardless of nationality, race or species.

"Yeah, he wants to let the world know that the Avengers are operating again and that Steve is the liaison. Also that we are independent from any agency out there. It's basically a PR campaign." As Bucky talks they get their breakfast and make their way over to Sam and Steve.

“Morning Buck, Wanda," Steve greets them with a small smile.

Even though Bucky knew back then what Steve planned, he never really registered what it would entail, the aftermath. Now he's faced with it and he feels... detached, maybe that's the word. He isn’t really sure. They start talking about random stuff and more people join their table, Bruce and Scott and some others, but Bucky finds it hard to pay attention.

He's been thinking that he should change his name. If he is to serve again, help Sam lead a team, he should go back to being James, or Barnes. 'Bucky' is what he was called by Steve, by all the girls he took dancing all those years ago. 'Bucky' was a young man who believed in love and hope and freedom, in happiness and pranks, in fighting for something good.

He isn't that man anymore. It's time to bury Bucky and let James out. James, who has seen too much to have that sparkle he had in his eyes before he was drafted. God, he was such an optimistic little shit back then, the hat askew, the uniform a way to impress the women and little Stevie. He fell hard. Reality is such a cruel mistress, just like time. Both kill their students in the end.

"Buck!"

Bucky jumps as he receives an elbow in the ribs and turns to his right. Steve is looking at him with a frown. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, the concern clear in his sky-blue eyes, the wrinkles deep, his face withered by a life that Bucky wasn’t privy to. He wonders how old Steve was when he discovered his first grey hair, what Peggy said when the first age spot on his hands appeared. Did she made a joke like Bucky would've? He would’ve made Steve laugh, he would’ve…

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just tired, woke up with a headache," Bucky replies with a forced smile and starts eating his forgotten breakfast.

"Did you take something for it?" Scott asks between bites of his toast.

Bucky shakes his head. "No, the normal pills don't really work on me and I don't want the strong stuff. It's okay though, it usually goes away during the day, quicker if I have a big breakfast."

"I'll never get over how much you two super soldiers eat. This guy used to empty my cupboards!" Sam jokes pointing a fork in Steve's direction. Steve just shrugs and laughs.

"It didn't get better, Peg would make me these protein and carb filled bars to keep me going throughout the day. I finally learned how to make them when she started going on missions that took her away from home. Otherwise the neighbours would've thought I threw parties in her absence."

Laughter fills the table. Steve is finally opening up about his life that happened in the five seconds he was gone. Bucky tries his best to laugh with them. He has to. The world's a stage and he will play his part. He will act the hell out of it. Oscar-worthy material. So he laughs, takes a bite of bacon and wishes he could taste it.

Who knew the power five seconds could have?

The rest of the breakfast is spent in an easy atmosphere full of subtle jokes. Scott talks about his future with Hope and Cassie, his joy that they already team up against him and how grateful he is for them. Wanda is starting to find her footing, her independence again, and isn't that great to see. Sam is still ecstatic about being Captain America and the responsibility it entails.

Everyone is happy to build a new team, a close bond that will stand the test of time. It's been forged in fire and pain, a foundation that will stay strong. They've all accepted Bucky as well, willingly submitting to his authority when he's leading them as Sam's second.

The only surprise they really had was how easy Peter fit into the group. No one mentions his age - after all he has seen too much as well. It took him a month to start coming to the compound and help with the rebuilding, another month to accept what happened and that he has to face his destiny with the group that’s left. He's started building a sort of friendship with Wanda, the two youngest Avengers encouraged by Bucky to look after each other.

Bucky finishes his breakfast first, not really in the mood for joking around or discussing war strategies and what-not. He just wants to eat his meal and leave. Apart from the meeting with Fury he has a full day of training with Sam ahead, as well as supervising the new security features and helping with the perimeter set-up. They still need to do the last finishing touches to meet his rigorous standards.

Once he's done he stands up, flicks Sam on the ear with a smile and takes his tray to the kitchen. “See you all later.” He doesn't even look back at anyone. Sam glances at Steve who is looking down, staring at his food like he doesn't really see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is using the drugs almost like someone would use cigarettes or anxiety meds, a way to take the edge off. I do go into more detail about it in later chapters. I personally would rather use real meds (which I do, as I suffer from social anxiety disorder and big crowds aren't my friend) if my best friend had a whole life without me. So many things have happened to Bucky in such a short time, it would be impossible for him not to have some kind of problem coping with it. Even more so if he has to hear stories of that life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After more than 80 years he finally knows he never stood a chance.  
> He could never have been what Steve wanted.

Since Steve came back he feels a wall, a wall between him and Bucky, and he doesn’t really know how to break it down. Something is wrong, but he has no idea what it could be. He forgot Bucky’s mannerisms, the tells that would've guided him before. He may have left them for five seconds, but for him it's been decades of observing other faces with their own mannerisms. He just has to learn Bucky all over again. If only they could spend more time together than the few minutes a day they currently do... Somehow Bucky took it upon himself to practically single-handedly make sure the compound is safe and secure. Scott once asked him about it and Bucky said he was the only one strong enough to keep going when everyone else is tired, besides, he has the time. Scott left it at that, but Steve couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that there's more to it. He looks up and sees Sam looking at him with apprehension. Steve looks down and finishes his meal. For the first time in a very long time he doesn’t know what to do.

Finishing his breakfast he walks towards his office, passing the labs on his way. Bruce is inside, so Steve walks in. “Hey, Bruce.”

“Steve, good morning, how are you today?”

“Good, missed you at breakfast.”

“Already had one, I need to sort out all of this, so we can pack it up and go put it somewhere where it won't be found. I’m thinking the bottom of the ocean,” Bruce jokes, pointing to the machine, the machine that helped them get everyone back, the machine that also gave Steve a second chance, and caused all of this. Steve can understand the sentiment. The machine is the last place they've seen Natasha alive. None of them feel too good about keeping it around.

“I hear you, so what do you need to do?”

“Well, I need to catalogue everything we did, all the data, save it, and then put it away. The data will be important for the future, we can learn from it, and hopefully never go through something like this again.”

“Yeah, this is something I don’t wish upon anyone.”

“The only good thing is what you've managed to get, a whole life. A second chance. That at least is worth something, right?” Seeing something in Steve's eyes he walks closer. Steve has a broken smile on his face. “Steve?”

“Did it? I lived a life, I was able to get over this, but Bruce, at what cost?”

“Bucky? He will come around. It must have been a terrible shock, but he still has you.”

“But I hurt him, I broke his heart.”

“I know.”

Steve looks up at that. “You know about his feelings?”

“We all do. It wasn’t so hard to figure it out, he's more transparent than he realizes. You know, I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but back then, sometime after the Snap, I once spoke to Tony about what happened, at the airport, at Siberia. He didn’t understand why you did what you did, he thought there had to be more to it than just saving a brother in arms. I asked him what he would have done if it was Pepper, how he felt when she had that Extremis thing in her. He gave me a look, and just took another sip of his whisky, but I could see wheels spinning in that head of his. He made peace with what happened. Did Bucky ever find out?”

“Find out..?” When Steve looks back up, his eyes are filled with tears. He still remembers what he did for Bucky, the sight of Bucky lying on the ground, his arm blown off, trying to keep Tony from hurting him. Bucky always brought out his darkest instincts, he forgot about that in the eighty years that passed since the whole Accords debacle.

“That Tony understood, that he didn’t hold it against Bucky in the end?”

Steve stares at Bruce, his mouth open.

“You didn’t know either?”

Shaking his head Steve tries to smile. He should tell Bucky, he will be so relieved... Bruce takes a step closer to Steve.

“It is going to be alright, Steve, it will take time, but it will be okay. One day. And we all are here for you, for both of you.”

“Thanks Bruce. I got to go.” Giving Bruce a faint smile he walks out.

Steve watches as Bucky makes his way to the far side of the gym. Sam is next to Steve, shield at the ready.

"What did you think of his request?" Sam asks as he turns to Steve.

"What?" Steve asks and turns to Sam.

 _"James,_ " Sam says, and Steve looks down. It was towards the end of the meeting when Fury asked if there's any changes they would like to implement. Bucky said that in the field he wants to be called either James or Barnes. He feels that Bucky is no longer adequate in this new dynamic. Everyone frowned but nobody really debated it, after all they don’t know the story of the nickname. Steve was the only one visibly upset, but Bucky didn't really pay attention to him. Somehow they've stopped paying attention to each other after those five seconds.

"It's his choice."

"That's it?" Sam asks, not even hiding the ire in his tone.

"What do you want me to say?" Steve replies.

Sam just stares. "Wow, this whole different life really changed you, huh? Man, what happened to 'even when I had nothing I had Bucky' and going against 117 nations to fight for him?"

Steve stares back at Sam with an unreadable expression. "Sam-”

"No. You don't get to _Sam_ me. You really don't see it, do you?" Sam asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. Everyone can see there's a change in Bucky, but no one knows him as well as Sam and Steve. Natasha would have seen it, she would have made the connection immediately, but she isn't here, and now it looks as if Sam is the only one reading between the lines, the only one to see just how affected Bucky is by all of this. He is quieter, but somehow higher strung than ever.

The last time he was like this was when they were fighting the Accords and faced off with Tony's team at the airport. Bucky was ready to die fighting, more than once Sam thought that Bucky would rather die than get better. He wasn't exactly reckless, just indifferent to his injuries. His priority, his only goal was Steve, anything else was just icing on the cake. But he's changed, thanks to Steve and their time in Wakanda. Sam was able to discover the real man behind the mask, the man that still has so much to give after losing practically everything.

It was also nice to see a side of Steve that was clearly a result of having Bucky back in his life - he was calmer, more open, relaxed. He even started having fun with him and Natasha. If Sam didn’t know better he would've said Steve was in love.

Until that day by the lake he really thought that Steve and Bucky were more than friends, more than what they presented to the outside world. He was so jealous of the bond they had, something that lasted for decades even though they didn't even know the other was alive. That day by the lake changed a lot of things, not only for Steve - for everyone else as well. There is a rippling effect that is still expanding and Sam is unsure of when it will stop. He has a feeling that it will end in a crashing tsunami, instead of just a steady ebb on the shore. There are still big waves to come. He just hopes that it will leave both super soldiers standing.

"See what?"

Sam shakes his head. It isn't his place. He doesn’t know where his place is exactly, but it definitely isn’t this. He isn’t going to tell Steve just how broken Bucky is, how much that five second sacrifice cost him. He's just starting to form his own relationship with Barnes and he isn’t going to betray it. Before he can answer though, they hear a yell from the far side of the gym.

"Hey, are we practicing with the metal Frisbee or not? I personally want to see Sam hitting himself with it." Bucky's voice is loud and cheerful. The two men look away from each other. Yeah, it's a relationship that clearly needs work.

"You're gonna pay for that, Rapunzel!" Sam yells as Bucky throws him a middle finger.

"You're going to have to wait until payday. My new boss hasn't even discussed my salary yet," Bucky yells back, looking at Steve.

"What makes you think I'm in charge of it?" Steve asks, trying to yell but his voice isn't so strong anymore. His spirit may always be young and bold, but his body not so much. Once too small and sick, now too old and frail. Bucky doesn't bother with a reply, he just mumbles something they can't hear. They can both see from his body language it wasn't anything nice though. He takes a breath and steps closer to them.

"Come on, let's do this, otherwise I will go find something else to do. I actually have a life outside of this place, you know." He doesn’t, really, not counting the little getaways. That's a coping mechanism, a way to find something in this messed up life that isn’t connected to him killing or fighting. It’s… it’s a work in progress.

"Your goats missing you?" Steve teases with a smile. Bucky stops moving and visibly bites down on his tongue. His eyes bore into Steve’s.

"Really, man?" Sam asks, shaking his head.

"What?" Steve looks confused.

"He hasn't been back, his hut burned down in those five years and his goats are gone." Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. He remembers Bucky saying something, but he still had one foot in another world back then, the life he lived still fresh in his mind. Guilt overcomes him.

"What? Damn, Buck, I'm sorry. I didn't know," Steve replies with shame. Bucky walks up to them.

"Guess it got lost in the war, too many other things to worry about, which I totally understand by the way. Plus you had a whole different life to occupy you so it is understandable it slipped your mind when I mentioned it about a week after we officially started rebuilding. Guess you're the one with memory gaps now.” Bucky adds a smile at the last minute. It's clearly meant to be a joke, a joke about Steve's old age and Bucky’s past, but there's a hint of bitterness that the other two men hear clearly. Bucky looks down and then back at them.

"Anyway, doesn't matter, I'm going to go do something else, you two have fun." Without waiting for an answer he turns around and flees the gym, leaving the two men standing in the middle of the mat. He really doesn’t want to be in the same room as either of them.

Bucky doesn't look back as he makes his way down to the security hub. He may as well start on the perimeter checks, some walking will probably do him good.

He must hold on for only a few more days, this weekend he can go out and let go again. Forget about all of this for a while, no masks, no pretending. There's a nightclub with his name on it. Behind the club are the small rooms where he can spend some time with whoever he picks up... Although the past few times it was the same guy, and Bucky will admit, Cody is starting to make more and more of an impression. He sighs. Cody is an underdog and Bucky's always had a soft spot for those. Clearly that hasn’t changed. At least other things did, like ways of meeting people. Their get-togethers have even progressed to a point where they would meet up at a motel, and stay the whole weekend.

Picking up partners has never been so easy. Before he had to spend so much time, court them... And the men? That was reserved for back alleys and secret hideaways at the docks. The women were a front, a mask. The men, they were what made him feel alive. These days... He has no shortage, and no guilt. He knows where he stands with Steve. After more than 80 years he finally knows he never stood a chance.

He could never have been what Steve wanted. It all boils down to not being a woman, really. He couldn't give Steve the happily ever after, the white picket fence, the screaming kids, the anniversary dinners, the neighborhood parties, the Halloween trick or treating, the church wedding with a white veil and a black tuxedo, the kids first day of school, the... the whole package that Steve got in five seconds of walking away.

He needs to move on, he really does. Maybe one day he will be able to smile and it will reach his eyes. He will get to hold somebody's hand and be accepted fully and completely. It's going to be a man, maybe not the blue-eyed super soldier that's currently keeping his heart, but there _will be_ someone.

He just needs to get his heart back again. Steve never even knew he had it, so Bucky must simply get it back without alerting him. Until then he will dance his tears away in a very loud club where the bass echoes his heartbeat and the colored laser lights dapple over his body as he sways and learns the new dancing styles. He still has the rhythm in his blood. He can quench his thirst for hope with some alcohol, trying to shake off the pain of his past and let something new in. He will find a guy to kiss in the dark. He can relearn the way his body moves with another, relearn the way his hands seek the firm flesh or the soft skin instead of the curve of a trigger.

It may not be the body he dreamed of for decades, but that’s okay, he will learn to enjoy new ones. And the alcohol and the pills will help with that. Everyone sometimes needs help. It's not permanent, it's just a bridge, a stopgap, something that makes him cross the gulf from loneliness to intimacy.

In the security room there are dozens of monitors stuck to the wall like wallpaper. A few are operational, the rest still a black canvas, waiting to be switched on. Bucky walks to the security officer sitting behind the desk. The man is busy with paperwork. He stands up the moment Bucky walks in.

"Afternoon, sir."

"Bucky, or James, or even Barnes, please, Jeffrey." Bucky smiles warmly at the security guard.

"Yes s- James. You're early today."

"Yeah, Sam and Steve are apparently having a chat instead of training and I decided I had better things to do than joining them. East or west side today?" Bucky asks and makes his way over to a suitcase, his mind still on what happened in the gym. He could see that either Sam or Steve said something that upset the other one. He was way too far to hear, but he knows both of them too well. He was always good with micro expressions and body language, which was one of the reasons he was so fast to catch on to Steve’s plan for the time jump. That one day of preparations was enough for Bucky to learn the rules of the game, to play the part of the supportive best friend once again.

If he was a betting man he would've said Sam was upset with something Steve said. But he isn't that man, not anymore. He's lost too much of his life already through sheer bad luck and he isn't about to place bets here. Then that comment about his goats... Fuck, did Steve really forget, or did he just not pay attention the first time? Probably the latter, his head is still in the clouds after living happily ever after for almost 80 years. Priorities probably change as you get older.

One thing he really wants to ask Steve is how he enjoyed his white picket fence while Bucky was being tortured. Did he ever think of helping Bucky? Of rescuing him? Or did he just not care enough? Would the tortured POW friend without an arm mess up his perfect life too much? Did he even visit Bucky's family? His mother, his sister, did he look them in the eye knowing Bucky was somewhere in the world being ripped apart? Did he read the newspapers and think anything at all? Steve said back then he was tired, that he saw Bucky die twice... When he went back, he lived through _her_ death twice as well. Are they even now?

But he can't ask. He isn't strong enough for the answer, whatever it might be. He is barely hanging on by a thread and if he asks, it would certainly cut that small string keeping him from throwing his hands in the air and screaming "Fuck it, I'm done." He has a suspicion that that thread is getting thinner and thinner anyway, regardless of his attempts to move on. He needs to focus on the here and now, stop losing himself in his mind and focus on what's right in front of him.

"The west side, it's the furthest from the compound and I know we will all sleep a bit better if that's taken care of," Jeffrey answers, bringing Bucky back to reality. Bucky smiles at him.

"Will do, Jeffrey. Okay, hand me the comm link and the cameras, I'll go stick them up."

"Sure thing."

Bucky and Jeffrey quickly load a case with the small cameras and hook up the communication link. Jeffrey pushes a few buttons and then turns to Bucky.

"You're online."

"Cool, see you when I get back." Taking the case Bucky leaves the compound to do his rounds. The cameras are small but very good. They will be placed all around the compound to give them a full 360° view. He volunteered for this job precisely because it gives him the perfect opportunity to get out of the compound, even for a little while, and be alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Bucky, being in the mind space he is, wouldn’t like to be called Bucky out in the field anymore - it's something Steve did. Even though he still introduces himself to anyone as “Bucky” I think that with the new chapter in his life, as an Avenger he would like to be called James, or even White Wolf. "Bucky" is something he would keep for his friends at home, in their downtime.  
> Also I think Bucky and Steve had a lot of practice with the shield back in WW2, to get Steve to the level he was. And how else can I make Bucky and Sam insult each other? This is fun way to bond.  
> beta's note: the 'Rapunzel' thing may well be my very favorite thing about this story <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's his own fault for building a world around Steve, but Steve was always the sun. Bucky thinks he's a moon, or one of those ice planets. Either cold or only occasionally reflecting a light, never having his own.

Back at the gym Sam and Steve stand and talk for a while before Steve finally starts to help Sam with the shield, correcting his stance and giving him tips on the best angles for maximum effect. They don't talk about Bucky, even though they both want to. Sam knows Bucky has a lot of unresolved issues and needs to have a serious heart to heart with Steve before this ruins their friendship and the rapport they used to have. It would be tragic if a 100-year bond got ruined by a five second decision. Sam is starting to get seriously worried about Bucky, especially those weekend trips he takes. He glances at Steve. It's now or never.

"Listen, I know I probably have no right, but I have to get this off my chest."

Steve turns to Sam, giving him his full attention. "What's wrong?"

"Bucky. There's something off and I don't know how to approach it. Tell me you've noticed it as well."

Steve frowns and sighs. "Yeah, I did, I don't know what it is though. Maybe it's all of this, still trying to make peace with all these changes."

Sam wants to roll his eyes. Steve is being such a dunce. "You being the biggest one."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, you left as a young man and came back literally as a grandpa with a whole life that none of us were involved in! You decided to spend decades, an entire life, without him, don't you think he may still be struggling with that? Plus suddenly you have a whole new family that you visit on the weekends and we don't even know them!"

"He knew my decision, he gave me his blessing."

Sam closes his eyes and takes a breath. "Listen, we are all happy for you, you certainly deserved it. But where you've had a long time to make peace with it, we only had five seconds and we're all still trying to come to grips with how you've changed. Yes, we will need time to process all of this, but really, is your head so far up your ass that you can’t see what’s going on? Have you two actually had a good old fashioned sit-down since you came back? Talked about the life you had, about moving on from here? Talked about anything at all that wasn't work? Talked like you used to back at Wakanda, hours and hours of pure nonsense and inside jokes?”

Steve looks down and Sam can see it's starting to sink in. He keeps going.

"To us, you fought for him tooth and nail, what, seven years ago? Took on the whole UN for him. Took on Ross, T'Challa, Tony, every other person who even _looked_ at him wrong. You only got each other back for a very short time, even less for him because of the cryostasis, and then the Snap happened. You've had so many years to deal with it, to move on, you had help. You had a blissful life... And I know for a fact deep down he is still trying to find his footing in all of this. Now _he_ is the man out of time, without anything to hold on to. He just lost another five years to Thanos, and his best friend, the only link he has to his old life, suddenly changes in a matter of seconds. And you haven't actually tried to help him since you've been back. Why?"

"I... I haven't thought of it like that to be honest," Steve answers, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

"Have you thought of it at all? Do you know anything about where he goes or what he does?"

Steve shakes his head again. "Maybe he needs some space. He's always been the first one to go stir crazy, couldn’t sit still for even a second. It’s not as if I can corner him and make him tell us.”

Sam shrugs. "It might have to come to that, something needs to be done. I worry about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you noticed that he never looks very alert when he comes back? That he looks worse on Monday than when he does when he leaves? He's certainly not getting any rest. Tell me you're not worried about your boy. Your man. The man. Worried about the man," Sam quickly rectifies, ignoring the look Steve gives him. Sam used to joke about Bucky being Steve's boy back when they were still looking for him. Steve would blush and tell him to let it go. Sam certainly doesn't think it's true now. Whatever he thought of their relationship back then, he was clearly wrong.

"What do you propose we do? Follow him, ask him what's he doing?"

"I think you should get your head out of your ass and fight for your friendship again. Do _something_ , because this is tearing you two apart.” Without waiting for a reply Sam picks up the shield and exits the gym, leaving Steve alone. Steve runs his hands through his hair and when his eyes catch his hands he starts to realize what a shock it must have been, seeing him young one moment and old the next.

Unaware of the conversation back in the gym Bucky takes his time with the perimeter. The longer he is out here, the longer he doesn't have to be inside and deal with people. A clear win-win if you ask him.

He's been busy for about an hour when his phone chimes. He pulls it out.

Cody

_This wknd on?_

Bucky rolls his eyes, still trying to come to grips with the new way of texting. He and Ste... _He_ never texted like this and he isn’t about to change. Putting the pliers down he starts texting back.

**Yes. Same time, same place, same stuff. Told you last week I’d see you Cody, missing me already?**

_course yes. U make it all better._

Bucky stares at the reply and closes his eyes. God, someone misses him, someone thinks he is still worth something. Granted, they just drink, eat, take drugs and fuck, but it's better than nothing. Cody is starting to occupy more and more space in Bucky’s mind. This was supposed to be just a mutually beneficial arrangement, but it's starting to turn into something else. Bucky likes Cody, a struggling musician playing at clubs and functions waiting for his break. He's in the same boat as Bucky - not the ex-assassin boat, but they are both trying to move on. Cody’s ex never came out and is still trying to fit the mold, having just announced his engagement to a lovely young fashion designer. A girl. Bucky can relate to getting left behind for a girl.

Bucky looks around. He's almost done, then he can go back inside and ask Hope and Scott to take a flight around to see if the cameras pick them up. He quickly types back.

**Thank you. I’ll see you Friday night, I’ll kiss it all better.**

Steve walks back to his room, needing some time alone after the talk he had with Sam. He realises that he was too busy to make time for Bucky and it made things worse. It's time for him to face the facts, to get his head of his ass like Sam said. He's still basking in the afterglow of the life he had with Peggy, so he didn't even consider what his change did to the people around him. Sam is right, he's had decades to deal, and the others only had a few weeks.

It _is_ kind of strange to come back to fixing the world after years and years of just observing from the back seat - the world is so broken and in such a disarray... He's doing what he can, and there was always a small part of him that missed the rush of the front lines, calling the shots. He enjoys bringing people together and making them a team.

When Fury and Maria asked him to help, to be an assistant director, he grabbed the opportunity with both hands. He came out of retirement - it's been a few years since Peggy died, his children are all grown up, with grandchildren that are nearly the age he was when he enlisted. It was time for something new, and being the leader of a group of people saving the world again seemed like a good idea. He is so very lucky to have the best of both worlds now, to be able to fight the good fight during the week and then visit his family on the weekends.

The one thing that is still heavy on his mind, that he's pushed aside for so long, is his best friend. He left Bucky behind in such a vulnerable time in his life. He was still adjusting to a world where he isn’t a puppet any more - building a life for himself, doing everything he could to regain his memories and supporting Steve in his missions at the same time.

He gladly took on a support role for Steve to act as Nomad, assisting Sam and Natasha and feeding them all when they visited him. He expanded his hut, created a home for them, one without judgement and filled with love and acceptance. Steve bows his head in shame. He forgot all of that... In the beginning of his life with Peggy he would dream about it, smell a fire and remember a golden sunset and a lake, a wooden hut full of jokes. He would remember Sam's voice and Natasha's dark humour. He would remember a soft understanding smile and blue stormy eyes surrounded by brown wavy hair. The memories faded for him, but not for the people in this compound. Not for Bucky, not for Sam. And Natasha, god. For them, she died only weeks ago.

Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, ashamed of himself and feeling every year in his body. He is trying his best to be what everyone needs, but he ignored the obvious pain in Bucky's eyes whenever they see each other.

He still remembers how Bucky froze when Steve talked about his wedding one evening. Bucky, God, it was as if he was back to being the Winter Soldier, staring ahead with dead eyes and a mouth full of food. His hands were steady but Steve knows, the more steady his hands, the more turmoil inside. It comes from his time as a sharpshooter back in the war, and then as the Asset. His defence mechanism is becoming still, emotionless.

Steve let it go. What else could he do, talk to Bucky in front of everyone? He told himself he would make time to talk to Bucky later but he didn’t, he never came around to it. Days, then weeks passed and they still haven't really talked, not even once. Steve is busy with meetings, Bucky is busy doing the things only an enhanced human can do. He and Bruce are the strongest ones now, the super soldier and the Hulk, and Bruce has more important things to do than work security.

Sometimes he really wishes he still had the strength of his youth. Seeing how much there is to be done, he wants to do more.

His eye catches the photos on the shelf above his bed. One of his family, one of the old team, the original six as Natasha dubbed them, one of him, Sam, Natasha and Bucky in Wakanda, and one of just him and Bucky before the war. Standing up he lifts the photo of his family. They look so happy, his daughter pregnant with her third child, ducking behind her mother to hide the big belly. Peggy would've known what to do, she would've known how to fix the relationship between him and Bucky.

A noise startles him from his reverie, someone walking down the corridor. He would know those footsteps anywhere. Bucky is walking right past his door on the way to his room. Well, no time like the present.

“Bucky!” Steve calls out, opening the door, and Bucky slowly turns around until he faces Steve. Like he's afraid.

“Yeah?”

Steve is trying to figure out where to start. He didn't really have a plan beyond "talk to Bucky". “I, uh... just... wanted to say I'm sorry about before, about, uh, your hut? I know that farm meant a lot to you.”

Bucky swallows and purses his lips, burying his hands in his jacket - a visible tactic to make himself smaller. “Its fine, don’t worry about it, we all have to move on, right? Can't hide in a little hut forever, at least I don’t have to worry about being the world's most wanted anymore.”

Steve tilts his head, trying to figure out why Bucky's voice is filled with resignation. Bucky's tired, it's in every line of his body, a sluggishness in his actions. Lack of sleep doesn't explain it, not for a super soldier, it must go deeper than that. “Listen, why don't you come in and we can talk a bit? We hardly talk these days.” Steve opens his hand, inviting Bucky in. The hand with the photo. Bucky walks a step closer, past the threshold, then his eyes fall on the picture of the smiling family. Looking down he composes himself before looking up again. Steve sees the emotions before they disappear behind the mask, the same one he donned in an alleyway behind a theatre decades ago, when Steve asked him if he got his orders. He looked down and then up as he told Steve about the 107th. It took Steve years to realise that that was him trying to hide his anxiety, his fear. And he's doing it again right now.

“You know what? Maybe some other time, I just got back from putting up cameras all around the west side, I feel dirty, think I should take a shower first. We can talk later, yeah?” Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer as he turns around and walks back out.

Steve looks down at the photo, the faces all smiling at him, wide and happy. He sees it now, the absence of Bucky, who didn’t even know they existed. For the first time since he came back he looks at the photo with a sadness that isn’t purely nostalgia.

Bucky barely makes it to his room before he slides down, his back against the door, his arms covering his head that rests on his knees as the sobs rack his body. Steady stream of tears runs down his face. This is the first time he saw Steve's room, the first time he stepped inside. The moment he walked in, it was clear it was a mistake.

Steve's spaces were always comfortable, never overly decorated, not cluttered, just _Steve_. The bed was made up with dark blue bedding, the desk and shelves all standard light wood. He could see the photos on the shelf, the old ones and the new... But what really got to him was the one in Steve's hand. A family. Steve's family. He knew Steve had a happy life, a good life, filled with children and, fuck, were those grandchildren? They were all smiling, he could see Steve in the children's faces, and one even had the same blond cowlick Steve had back in the day. It was too much, and he had no part in it, not a single part, except stepping back and giving Steve his blessing to go back. He didn't get to experience any of it. He did not witness Steve becoming a dad, wasn't there with him to soothe his nerves and then try to get him drunk in celebration. What are their names? Do they like coffee like Steve does? Do they draw and paint like Steve used to? Do they have asthma like him? Do they have two left feet as well?

Bucky closes his eyes to stop the tears, but it doesn’t work. More memories start to flood his mind.

He and Steve used to joke about the future, when they were both just a couple of dumb teenagers. Steve would be sick in bed and Bucky would tell him silly stories to keep his mind off his illness. He would tell him about them getting married, sisters if possible, so they could be brothers and always be together. How they would raise their kids side by side, Bucky teaching them how to dance and Steve helping with the homework. It was idyllic, it was perfect. Bucky did it so Steve could get better and maybe he would have even gone through with it, because he knew that was the only way to keep Steve in his life. He couldn't openly love him the way he really wanted to, the world didn’t allow it and Steve never felt that way about him - but Bucky would have been okay with it, he would have pretended that everything was fine, as long as Steve was in his life, as long as Steve was next to him. Together, just like they promised.

Promises were for children. Till the end of the fucking line. Guess the line ended in a circle. A golden circle and a time machine.

Bucky doesn’t know how long he sits there, his eyes burning and swollen shut with the tears that seem endless.

He takes a deep breath and lifts his head. He feels tired, but calm. His body is loose and numb. Looking up, he can see it's late afternoon - he should take a shower, get some rest. He gets up and walks to the bathroom. Friday is so far away, and he yearns for touch. A human touch. Someone to just hold him. Someone who needs him, someone who can tell him that his only worth isn't that of a killing machine.

He turns around to look at his desk, the bottle of vodka standing there, but he doesn’t pick it up. It's not what he wants. He doesn’t want the pills either, what he wants is to _not be here_. Right now, the only thing that helps him, the only thing that is makes him feel that he has something to offer, is Cody. Sex, there's only one thing that makes him feel human, and it's sex.

He wants more than sex, but Cody is dealing with his own share of problems. Both of them broken, looking for comfort in the other's arms. Both of them craving touch, brushing against each other instead of the people they really want.

Looking around Bucky runs his hands through his hair, his teeth grinding in frustration. He shakes his head, hoping to keep the dark thoughts from consuming his mind. He can feel it, it's like weeds in a garden, slowly taking over the flowers, devouring everything. The pills somehow help to keep the weeds from overpowering everything else. Bucky crouches next to the cabinet in the bathroom, removing the small baggie. Two pills left. Friday is still three days away. Bucky holds the pills in his hand. Should he... Maybe not. He doesn’t need it. He wants it. But not like _want_ want, just normal want. He needs every bit of greenery possible. Taking one pill, he places the other one in the cabinet, closing the door and lying down on the tile floor. Just for a moment.

He stays there, thinking about happy memories, moments he felt good about himself. The problem is, all his memories, the good ones, have Steve in them. With a hollow laugh he sings softly " _Like the fella once said, Ain't that a kick in the head_.”

It's his own fault for building a world around Steve, but Steve was always the sun. Bucky thinks he's a moon, or one of those ice planets. Either cold or only occasionally reflecting a light, never having his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is something that would hurt Bucky, seeing a photo, visual evidence of a happy family, of a whole life without him. I don’t think Steve is being an ass on purpose, I think that after so many years of making peace and moving on he doesn’t really know how his actions affects the others. I don’t want to say ‘old man syndrome’, it might offend somebody, but maybe it's something similar.  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky retracts even further into himself. He clasps his hands tighter. Sam sees it and closes his eyes before looking at him again.  
> “You are, aren't you?” Bucky's eyes say it all. “Shit, Barnes, how long?”  
> “Forever,” Bucky answers, his voice small, broken and sad.

* * *

* * *

Steve waits the whole afternoon, but Bucky never shows up. He knew he wouldn’t, Bucky never really left his room except for meals and work. Steve often stays in his, writing reports and making plans and drawing up strategies so he knows exactly when Bucky comes and goes.

Around dinner Steve has no choice but to go to the communal hall, his legs needing a stretch. His body is old and sitting for long periods is really starting to take a toll on him. Bucky doesn’t show up for dinner either. If anyone misses his presence, they don’t show it - only Sam keeps looking up whenever someone comes in, before giving a sigh and going back to his food. Steve doesn’t blame him. He worries too, still waiting for those particular footsteps that never come. Sam waits till half the people leave before he sits down next to Steve.

“Where is he?”

“I don't know, I briefly spoke to him when he came back from setting up the cameras, but he left.”

“What did you talk about?” Sam inquires.

“I apologised again for this morning, then invited him into my room to talk, as you suggested. He saw a photo that I think upset him and he made an excuse and left,” Steve starts to explain.

Sam narrows his eyes. “What photo?”

“My family, I was holding it,” Steve answers and Sam can see by the way his shoulders hunch that he knows how messed up it all is.

“Well, shit. He's never seen it before?”

Steve shakes his head. “He's never even been in my room before.”

“Ah man, this is such a mess,” Sam replies, finishing his juice and Steve is quiet for a while. Something is bothering him about Bucky's attitude and he isn’t sure how to address it. It would explain a lot, yet at the same time seems ludicrous. Sam looks at him. “What's up, you have that look?”

“What look?”

“You know which one, what's on your mind?”

Steve takes a breath. “Bucky is taking this a lot harder than I thought, I mean everyone is over it, you made peace with it, yet he somehow can't? I’m back, yes, older, but here, still his best friend, still here for him, yet he looks at me as if he lost me or something. I just... Why is it so upsetting to him that I've lived a life, is it just because he wasn’t there, or what? Why would he give me his blessing, and then be like this?” Now that Steve's asked the question, he realises that's the bottom line, that's the one thing that plagues him. If he didn’t know any better he would say Bucky acts like a jilted lover or something, instead of a friend.

Sam takes a deep breath and mumbles something under his breath before he looks around to make sure they are alone and can talk without any interference. “You know, until that day by the lake, I thought, Natasha thought, hell we all had this idea that you and Bucky were an item, or had been, back in the day.”

Steve's eyes widen in shock. “What?”

“We all heard the stories, saw the documentaries, saw the photos of the two of you, and there was speculation, you know, in certain circles? Many thought it was just the LGBTQ community reading too much into something that wasn’t there, trying to make stuff up. But then I saw you when you discovered he was alive. You were stunned, Rumlow arrested you and you just went along in a daze. You said 'even when I had nothing I had Bucky' and I thought, dude, this is intense but hey, what do I know. You brought SHIELD down, for him, 'it all goes', those were your words to Fury. The same organisation your girl - wait, wife! – established. Your utter conviction that after seventy years he would recognise you. To this day I have no idea how it was possible, after everything they did to him? But _he did_. He beat you up, but he remembered. Then the search. Bucharest. You took on the whole UN for him! Don’t get me wrong, but I never had a friend that I would do that for. No offence, that is not something you just do. Then the warehouse, he was in a vice grip, remember that? You asked him which Bucky you were talking too, and he _giggled_ , the man _giggled_ , you did that! You made him giggle, the world's most feared assassin! The look he gave you, the look _you_ gave _him_. Then the airport and Siberia. You fought every single organisation and authority that tried to get between the two of you, and he followed you, blindly, as if he's been doing it his entire life. He would look at you, and I would get jealous, Natasha too. She once said 'now I know why he never went on dates.' There was nothing you wouldn’t have done, nowhere he wouldn't have followed you. We all had this suspicion but kept it to ourselves. Then that day by the lake and you _left_ him? When you showed up as an old man, I was stunned, but the biggest shock was getting it all so wrong.”

Steve stares at Sam, speechless. He saw some of the articles back in the day, when he was still fresh out of the ice, but this? This is something else. His entire friend circle thought he was in love with Bucky? That Bucky was in love with him? Wait... was Bucky..? _Is_ Bucky..? “Sam...” Steve starts, trying to process what he just heard. “Is he in love with me?”

Sam looks at him with pity in his eyes. “I don't know. He never said anything to me, and if he had, I wouldn’t tell you. I'm just starting to build a friendship with him, there's no way I’m betraying him. What I do know is that you need to talk to him. Soon.” With that Sam stands up and leaves Steve alone at the table.

Bucky is hungry, but he doesn't feel like doing anything about it. He may go out later tonight when everyone's asleep, but for now, he will stay in his room. He's showered, washed his face to hide the tear tracks, his eyes are still red but that will get better before tomorrow. Picking up his phone he looks through his messages and pictures. Shuri gave him this phone back in Wakanda to stay in touch with everyone and to take pictures. Which he did, photos of the lake, sunrises and sunsets, his goats, his hut. The mountains, everything he could think of. He misses all of it, but he knows he must move on. Going to his contacts he dials.

“Twice in one day, my my, White Wolf, you sure miss me.”

“Unbelievably so, Princess.”

“What happened?”

“Does something have to happen for me to call you?”

“I know you, Bucky, I was literally in your head. You're hurt. What happened?”

“I went into his room, saw the family photos.”

“Aah, shit... I'm so-”

“Don't say sorry, heard it enough today.”

“Okay.”

“Is the sunrise still beautiful over the lake?”

Shuri takes the distraction and runs with it. “Yes, you should come and see. The kids are constantly asking about the white man too.”

He bursts out laughing. The kids were one of the best parts of living in his hut - teasing him, wanting to be around him, playing with him. He was always good with kids, but he was surprised to see the old instincts come back to him so quickly. Shocked that he's good at something that isn't killing. “I will make arrangements in the next few weeks, promise.”

Both are quiet for a moment, just trying to give some silent comfort. Shuri narrows her eyes. “Listen…”

“Hmmm?”

“Have you unpacked your stuff yet, made it homey?”

Bucky shakes his head in response, earning a look and a mumbled “stupid white boi” from Shuri. That makes him smile.

Looking back she folds her arms. “Nothing?”

“Just the blanket you gave me when I got the hut.”

“The one with the royal family motifs?”

“Yeah, about the only thing that comforts me, and no jokes about my blanky, got it?” He tries to make light. Smiling back, she leans closer.

“Never, you wrap that around you tonight and dream of our open skies, and think of me hugging you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I worry about you, the fact that you call without any video is a big tell.”

“I could be naked in the bathtub.” Bucky holds the phone away from his ear as she bursts out laughing.

“Oh, please.” They are quiet for a moment before Shuri takes a breath. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know. I love you too, Princess.”

“I know. That's why I'm asking, please, please take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Promise.”

Bucky can’t say the words, he wants to, but knows he can't. It's a promise he may not keep, especially with the road he is on. “Princess. I will be okay. Got to go.”

“I will haunt you if you don't. Bye, White Wolf.”

Ending the call, Bucky places the phone back on the armrest and picks up a book. He is not sure he can focus, but he should try to distract himself from the day's events.

Sam is walking down the corridor to Bucky's room, carrying a packet of chips and a sandwich. Bucky never showed up for dinner and Sam just couldn't let it go. The conversation with Steve is still fresh in his mind, and Sam knows he needs to get to Bucky first, talk to him. He will not fight Bucky if he can help it, they are just starting to have a real relationship and he isn't going to jeopardize it for some five second, lifetime, head in his ass old stuff bullshit. If he and Bucky are going to work together, they need to trust each other, they need to have each other’s backs. Sharing the same 'keep Rogers safe' attitude created a bond, and ever since they came back from the snap there is an even better understanding between them.

Lifting his hand, he gives the door a sharp knock. “Barnes?”

“Come on in.”

Opening the door Sam walks in. The room is dark, the only source of light the small lamp next to the recliner where Bucky sits with a book open in his lap. Blinking a few times Sam closes the door. “Hey, I missed you at dinner, brought you these.” Sam hands him the food, seeing the smile on Barnes' face as he takes it.

“Thanks, Sam. I wasn't in the mood for people to be honest.” Opening the sandwich, Bucky starts eating and waves his other hand at Sam, inviting him to sit. Returning the smile Sam sits down, his body relaxed. Looking around as Bucky eats the food, he takes in the room. It's sparsely decorated, the only things giving it a personal touch the notebook on the bedside table and the Wakandan blanket. It's laying across the bed, and Sam knows it was the only thing Bucky slept under, the rest of the bed still mostly made. A few books are on the shelf, but they're just laying on their backs, placed there haphazardly. The wardrobe door is open, his clothes, what little he has, hanging there.

This is so telling it makes Sam want to rip out his hair in frustration. Bucky looks at him with a sigh. “What happened?”

“You think something happened?” Sam tries, but Bucky is grinning.

“You're here, caring and being nice. I recognize the look, you don't have much of a poker face - or body language - you know?”

Sam purses his lips before conceding. “Steve told me about the photo.”

Bucky stops eating and looks away. “Yeah, a whole family, children and grandchildren, nice, hey? Five seconds for us...”

“A lifetime for him,” Sam finishes. 

Bucky's voice is the only bitter one, Sam's more wistful, both still trying to wrap their heads around the concept of time travel. Bucky once loved science fiction, but now, after everything, he isn't so keen on it anymore. The future science had brought him nothing but pain so far. Except Shuri, she brought light and warmth and laughter, but none of those came from her lab.

“I couldn't stay, I couldn't enter his room and see that. God, I'm a terrible friend, wished him luck, gave him a pat on the back and now I can't even be glad for him. And I am, you know? I'm happy he was happy, he always wanted that kind of life.”

“And you?”

“I wanted Steve. To be happy, so it worked out,” Bucky quickly adds, but they both know there's a reason there is a full stop there, not a comma.

Sam looks at Bucky and continues. “We talked, he asked me why you were so affected when the rest of us accepted it all without much hassle. He wanted to know how we made peace with it quicker than you seem to have.”

Bucky swallows the last piece of bread and folds his hands together. He is scared to ask the next question. “What did you say?”

Sam takes a moment. “I'm telling you this, because I don't want you to think I went behind your back. We will be working very close together from now on and we have to be on the same page.” 

Bucky nods, dreading the next part.

“I told him the truth, that me, and Natasha, hell, the whole world thought you two were an item, or close to one, from the way you interacted.”

Bucky's eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing really comes out. “Sam...”

“Then I started to talk about how he reacted when he found out you were alive, what he did for you, the lengths he went to get you back, to get you safe. That until that day by the lake we all bet on you two being a sure thing.” 

Bucky chokes on his breath, his eyes filling with tears.

“Then he asked me if...”

Bucky looks up at him.

“If you are in love with him.” 

Bucky retracts even further into himself. He clasps his hands tighter. Sam sees it and closes his eyes before looking at him again.

“You are, aren't you?” Bucky's eyes say it all. “Shit, Barnes, how long?” 

“Forever,” Bucky answers, his voice small, broken and sad.

“What are you going to do? Why did you tell him it was okay to go back?”

Bucky shrugs and grimaces. “What was I going to do? He never wanted me like that, I could never give him what he dreamed of, that ring, that dance, that life. The photo is evidence enough. He is still in a daze most of the time, thinking about how happy he was, about the perfect life he's had. I could never compete, I could never be that, I was always too broken, the boy who worked his hands off at the docks, who could barely get enough for rent and medicine, how was I going to give him all of that..?” he asks, his hand waving to indicate his body. What about the picket fence, the children? He's a man, he doesn't have a womb, best he could do was dogs, maybe adoption, but not _Steve's_ , not like _her_. “As for what I'm going to do, the answer is: nothing. I'm going to go on with my life, back you up, make sure you get to wear those tights for a long time, and cope just like I currently am.”

“And how is that going, besides training and building this place?” 

Bucky just shrugs in response.

“That's not an answer.”

“I cope, okay? I find things to do.”

Sam groans and places his head in his hands, looking at Barnes. “Where do you go on the weekends?”

“Out?”

“Yeah, out? The same time Steve always leaves?”

“I don't plan it like that, I just go out.”

“But where to?”

“Catching up on life. Time I move on, don't you think?”

Sam wants to ask him more, wants to ask if he is seeing someone, when there is a knock on the door. Both know who it is and what that means. Steve's here, and he wants answers. They can both see the irony in that. In any other circumstances they would smile, but not tonight, not knowing the reason he is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is aware that he isn’t really coping in the most positive way, which is why he doesn’t tell Sam, or anyone, about where he's going. Once something becomes a secret, it's when you’re starting to go into a downward spiral.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me, I've been dying to ask, but I will be honest, I'm not sure I can cope with the answer so please see this as an opportunity not to. Did you even once think of me, while you got to live your happy life? Did you think about me being tortured, screaming for death as you raised your kids? Did you think that maybe I wished for someone to save me while you were making love to your wife? Going on holidays all over the world, knowing I'm seeing the world too, and shaping it for the worse?”

Sam and Bucky share a look when a second knock comes. 

“You need to talk to him.” 

“What do I say?”

“That's up to you. Good luck.” Sam walks to the door and opens it to see Steve standing there. If he's surprised to find Sam there, he doesn't show it. Like Sam, Steve brought food for Bucky - he's holding a container with leftovers and a can of soda. 

“Sam.” 

“Steve.” Sam steps away so Steve can enter the room. Bucky doesn't say anything. He doesn't even get up. Sam turns to him. “See you tomorrow.” 

Bucky gives a nod as he watches Sam leave. Steve is standing in the middle of the room for a moment, not knowing what to do. “It's meatballs and spaghetti, brought you some from dinner, it was good. Oh, and a soda.” As Steve looks down at Bucky, he can see that he's upset. There's a storm brewing in his eyes, a storm that tells him about pain and turmoil. He has to be strong, he has to know. The fact that Sam was here a minute ago already says much.

“Thanks, Sam also brought food. What is it with you feeding me?” 

“You weren't at dinner,” Steve answers as he watches Bucky stand up, take the container with food and put it on his desk. He doesn't look at Steve when he asks the question on his mind.

“What do you want? I'm quite tired and have a busy day tomorrow, so if you want to apologize for the hut, its fine, I'm over-” 

“Are you in love with me?” Steve blurts, still staring at Bucky's broad back. His reaction tells him everything. Bucky freezes up, his right hand folding into a fist. Still, Steve needs to know beyond a shadow of a doubt, he needs to hear it. Bucky doesn't move.

“Steve...”

“Are you?” 

Finally Bucky slowly turns around, his eyes locking onto Steve's. “What does it matter what I feel?” he asks, rather than answer. He's so tired, the ecstasy left his system about an hour ago, so he took a shower and was just pretending to read when Sam knocked. Knowing he only has to hold on till Friday, that it's only 3 days away, is the only thing keeping him upright at this moment. 

“It matters to me Buck, always.” 

Bucky watches Steve standing strong and tall. Even at over a 100 years old, the body still obeys the mind of the man he fell in love with. So stubborn, the mulish boy who turned into a man that always defended other people, that always stood strong. The only thing different is the lack of the suit and the shield. Those days are gone, forever. 

Bucky laughs and it sounds completely joyless. “Don't worry about it, Steve, it won't help now. What's done is done. Let's just move forward, okay?” 

Steve, seeing that Bucky is deflecting and making to walk past him, puts his hand on his chest to stop him. “Tell me, I deserve to know.” 

Bucky wants to scream. What about what _he_ deserves?! But that's just it, broken toy soldiers do not get what they deserve. The Winter Soldier does, and his penance is going to take the rest of his life. “No.”

“Answer me!” 

“Why?!” Bucky cries.

“I need to know!”

“To do what? It won't change anything! Nothing can change!” 

“Tell me!” Steve yells as loud as possible, which isn't very loud, his voice tainted with age. 

Bucky pushes him away. “Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear? _Fine_. I do, I did, I was, I am, in love with you, from the moment I realized what love was. I've loved you through every winter, praying and begging God to keep you with me just a little longer, bargaining my life for yours at every possible moment. I've loved you when you came home day after day with tired eyes and wheezing breath, with split lips and black eyes. I've loved you for every second of my miserable life, but I made peace with it, a long long time ago.” 

A heavy silence fills the room, both men staring at each other. Bucky wishes he could take it all back; Steve's mouth hangs open, trying to process what he just heard. His voice is soft, unsure, when he speaks. “But I was scrawny and ill.” 

“You were _you_. It never bothered me.” 

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck, really? When was I supposed to do this, when we were in our Brooklyn flat and you tried to fight everything that moved? Or when you saved my ass from that table and got ready to make that jump like the brave moron you are? Or how about when we got back to the base and you were falling over your feet trying to impress _her_ , carrying that broken radio to prove to her you didn't _forget_ , you _couldn't_ call? Or maybe that night at the pub when you told me, 'she's the one, a real dame, Buck' and 'she's such a spitfire, she punched a guy's lights out, Buck?' I knew you never felt anything like that for me, so I stepped back. I've been doing it my entire life, so what else is new.”

“You gave me your blessing when I went back,” Steve replies softly, still trying to understand what he's hearing. 

Bucky steps close, right into Steve's space. “What the fuck was I supposed to do?” Pulling on his hair he starts pacing around the room. “That's always been my part to play! Following you, following Steve Rogers into fights, making sure he makes it, then Captain America's sidekick, remember? They couldn't even make me the age I really was, no, that wouldn't sell, make him the little kid always following the good Captain behind! The B-player, making sure that player A shines. I was always the one meant to be in the shadows, so what again, I ask, was I supposed to fucking do? Ask you to stay? God, how selfish would that be of a sidekick, hey? Keeping the hero from getting the girl? Just like in the movies and the books, make sure the hero gets to save the day and kiss the girl, the perfect ending, then, sorry, sidekick, your part is done. Too broken for anything else, except fighting! Besides, you have a dick, that really isn't going to help with the white picket fence poster now, is it? Disney endings only happen in movies, Steve, or when you have a time machine.” Bucky stops to breathe, tears running down his cheeks. Steve is just standing there, staring at Buck with shock. Bucky isn't done. 

“Tell me, I've been dying to ask, but I'll be honest, I'm not sure I can cope with the answer so please see this as an opportunity not to. Did you even once think of me, while you got to live your happy life? Did you think about me being tortured, screaming for death as you raised your kids? Did you think that maybe I wished for someone to save me while you were making love to your wife? Going on holidays all over the world, knowing I'm seeing the world too, and shaping it for the worse?”

Steve's eyes fill with tears as he looks at the broken man in front of him. This is not what he had in mind when he wanted to talk, but it is what he is getting. Swallowing the lump in his throat he stares at Bucky. “Is that what you always thought of being my friend? The sidekick who had to make sure I get the girl in the end? That I forgot about you?” 

“You did, didn't you?” Bucky just shrugs as he answers.

Steve clenches his fists and steps even closer. Bucky doesn't flinch. “You. Were. Never. Just. A. Sidekick. To. Me. Never.” 

Casting his eyes down Bucky tries to get some balance back. Taking a deep breath, he looks back at Steve, completely empty, no fight left in him. “No, I know, that's unfair to say, but it's still the part I had to play.” Raising his hands to comfort Steve, he pulls away. “Stevie, listen, you were always like the sun, brighter than anything I've ever seen, purer than anyone I've ever known. I was bound to fall in love with you, how could I possibly not? You were, you _are_ , everything I could never be, just aspire to.” Bucky's voice is soft, resigned, and that hurts Steve even more. Bucky has given up. 

“Let's just forget what I said, okay? Because in the end I'm happy for you, I'm so fucking happy that you got to live your life the way you wanted to. You deserved everything that is good and pure, you've given up so much for the world, it was bound to pay you back in grandeur, and I'm glad it did. I'm so glad it did, because you deserved something good. I never expected to survive the war, in all honesty. That night at the Expo I made my peace that it was the last time I would ever see you. You were meant for great things, that was always a given, but me? I just wanted to do my time and hoped for the best. My biggest dream was that you'd get out of that rundown apartment, find a nice girl and settle down, making it in the big city with your art. That was my single wish, my only desire, my love for you was secondary, it always would be. You and your happiness would always be first. And you got it! You've _lived_ , Steve, all of us just hope to live a life like that, and you _did_.”

“Buck-” Steve tries, feeling overwhelmed by everything he just heard. Bucky reaches out and takes Steve's hand in his. 

“Please, don't, I've said way too much already, some things I never really meant to say. I'm not in a good head space now, but I will be, it will just take some time. You had it, you've had the time, and I just need to take mine. I will get over you, I will get over my insecure and downright shitty feelings about a lot of things, so don't worry. I'm glad that you weren't alone to deal with everything you went through, I'm glad that you had a family who took all this shit away, so this is me, dealing with mine. I may not have the same plans as you, I might not go the same route you did, but above all else, it will be mine.” 

Bucky can feel the weeds growing tighter in his throat and stomach and every part of his mind. The flowers are dying, and he knows that unless something changes, he is heading headfirst into a vicious spiral. The tiredness is settling heavy in his soul and bones. If there was another war right now, he would make sure to get caught in the crossfire, if only to rest.

Steve looks at Bucky, but Bucky looks away over Steve's shoulder. He looks more broken and tired than even that day in Bucharest, when he said, "You're Steve, I read about you in a museum." He was so scared to admit that he remembered, scared of what it could mean. 

“That day in Bucharest, when I asked you if you knew who I was....”

“I remembered you, every part, every feeling, but I also knew that _she_ just died, so...” Bucky lets go of Steve's hand and steps back, creating a distance between them. He's looking somewhere over Steve's shoulder and Steve can feel another piece of his heart breaking. Bucky's always putting him first, even now, when he's clearly struggling

“I'm sorry.” For so many things, but he can't say them, it's too much. 

Bucky's right shoulder just moves slightly. “Don't be, you didn't ask me to love you. I just do.”

“If I knew back then...” 

“You'd have still chosen her, don't deny it. You will always choose her, she was the one, Stevie, she was the spitfire to your match. I tried to hate her, but never could, I was just happy someone finally saw you the way I see you.”

“Do you hate her now?” Steve asked softly.

Bucky swallows. “She gave you a happy life, children, grandchildren. I could never hate that.”

“Wasn't what I asked.”

“It's the only answer you'll get.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Steve knows now. I think in the end, Bucky is convinced Steve would never chose him, and well... according to Endgame, he was right. He may have said some impulsive things, but it's human, we all say things when angry, sad, or both. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We still expect Natasha to bounce into the room and give us her snark, we expect Tony to waltz in with an offensive nickname and blaring rock music. To you this is something that happened a very, very long time ago, so I think it's time you get over yourself and your little house on the prairie life. It's time for you to realize that _this isn't about you anymore_."

[May]

Two weeks of absolute hell, that's the only way Bucky would describe it. Since that night in his room he's tried everything in his power to avoid Steve as much as he could - he leaves before anyone is up, goes outside, works as much as he can, even makes sure that someone is with him at all times when inside. He and Wanda are bonding, Wanda started showing an interest in learning hand-to-hand from him, and Bucky is happy to help her find ways to cope with the nightmares in her head. Scott and Hope are running behind with the perimeter checks because he's picked up the pace so much. Bucky on his part has placed cameras everywhere around the compound, the wiring is done, and the base is state of the art.

Whenever there's a meeting he will stick to his notes, only asking questions if necessary and in the most straightforward and to the point way possible. After those he always finds a reason to disappear somewhere for the rest of the day, Steve's presence too much to handle.

Sam is watching from the sidelines, feeling helpless. He found out what Bucky said to Steve that night, how he felt about his part in Steve's life, how he didn't give Steve a direct answer about Peggy. Sam knows Bucky doesn't hate _her_ , he hated what she _had_ , what she represented, what she meant to Steve. He hated what he never could be. Steve however doesn’t see it like that, not yet, and maybe he never will.

Bucky these days is leaving more and more often. He always makes sure to be gone whenever Steve leaves to see his family, his absence in the compound like salt rubbed into the festering wound. He'd leave during the week now as well, always back bright and early the next morning, but tired and kind of detached.

Sam is the only one that notices that Bucky is having a hard time, that he's falling down some kind of spiral and going down fast. He knows Bucky'd made excellent progress before the Snap and can heal at a great pace, but he feels it in his bones Bucky is going to do something stupid.

Steve isn't that unaffected either. Sam sees the way his shoulders are hunched, how he'd get quiet and stare into the distance, seeing something in his mind's eye. His eyes track Bucky whenever the man is in the room, but he speaks to him only when absolutely necessary. He did try to talk to Bucky again, the morning after that night, but one look was all it took to keep him from trying again. He hasn't tried since and it's driving Sam crazy, once again missing the stubborn man he met all those years ago. Sam's always been the person Steve confided in, that hasn't changed, but Steve will not tell him what is on his mind, he stays in his lane, talks about many things, just not about Bucky and not about how this situation affects both of them.

Then again, what is Steve supposed to say anyway? Bucky revealed so much in that one conversation, it will take time to come to grips with it all. Steve discovering his best friend used to love him since childhood, into adulthood, shook him to the core. Bucky loved him as he tried to win Peggy's heart, stepping aside, and then falling out of the picture into the hands of Hydra. Then he came back, and immediately did it again. Stepping aside every time.

The player B, as he called himself.

The sidekick.

The friend whose only role is to make sure Steve gets the girl.

The man who was Steve's first protector, his first shield, never thought he was good enough to be loved.

Sam bites the inside of his lip. He can understand where Bucky's coming from, he can see how it would make sense from his perspective. On top of that Bucky is depressed, he's been dealing with so much that his way of thinking is a bit distorted, his mind sees the negative and focuses on that. Sam can make a whole list. They literally just came back from an intergalactic war. They buried one of Bucky's closest friends, arguably the only good thing to ever come out of his time with Hydra. They buried the one man Bucky wanted above all else - and now will never be able to - talk to, to explain, to ask for forgiveness for what he was made to do. Steve went to return the stones, five seconds... and he was an old man. He didn't even ask for Bucky as he sat on that bench, didn't even look at him, just handed Sam the shield and continued to stare out at the lake. It was enough to give even a normal person issues, and when you take Bucky's mind into account... He took it as the ultimate rejection, the ultimate proof that he just isn't worth it.

Paging through the notes for his next counseling group, Sam sighs loudly. Bucky is far from being the only person whose loved one moved on. Nobody really has any idea how to handle it. There are so many people out there with their hearts broken, so many people failing to cope with the Snap and the five missing years. Some came back to find their spouses remarried, grandparents dead of old age, children all grown up. Some find out that people closest to them committed suicide when they couldn't deal with the nightmare of the Decimation. The world mourned, the structures disintegrated and it will take years to even start to balance things out. How do you tell a man whose wife remarried he must move on? He was just gone a second...

Many of his veterans that'd made huge progress before have to start all over again. Many slip back into old habits, alcohol, drugs. Some commit suicide, and isn't that tragic all on its own, to come back from being dusted just to fall into such a hopeless place that you'd choose death instead. God, he really has his work cut out for him.

If only he could get Bucky to a group session. He would benefit so much, no more long nights out doing whatever, coming back all tired and shaking like a leaf...

Sam freezes, his eyes locked on something in the distance. 

“Oh, Barnes...” Jumping up he runs to Steve's room and knocks frantically.

"Yeah?"

Sam enters the room. Steve is sitting at the desk, a file open in front of him. His body turns to Sam as he comes in.

"Sorry for barging in, I just had a very bad hunch. About Bucky." 

Frowning Steve closes the file and folds his arms in a distinct 'Captain America is concerned' way. "What? Why? Did he say something?"

"No... No. I was busy going over my notes for tomorrow's meeting and something jumped out at me. When you did the meetings in my stead, did you have anyone with addictions?"

"Loads, drugs and alcohol were the main ways people used to try and cope, it wasn't ideal and it was destructive but they did it anyway. Why?"

"Humour me, what are the main symptoms of someone using?"

"What? Drugs?" Nodding Sam waves his hand for Steve to go on. "Uhm, okay, jittery, always on edge, they would disappear for long periods, never tell anyone where they went, depressed but hiding it in various ways... oh... you don't think..." Steve trails off, his eyes widening, staring at Sam but going on. "He never comes back rested, acts like a man who sat on a ant's nest on Fridays before he leaves, is calm and cool and collected when he comes back on Sunday or Monday morning, tired and with bags under his eyes, but very relaxed..." Wiping his hands across his face, Steve stutters a breath. He turns back to Sam. "Can drugs even affect him? He has the serum!"

"A knock off version. You got the Rolex, he got the Chinatown replica."

"Sam..." Steve tries but Sam shrugs.

"I don't know. When you were in the hospital they had you on painkillers and meds and those did work, it all depended on the dosage. I guess the same principle applies to psychedelic drugs."

"But he wouldn't, would he?"

"Steve, I'm not so sure. I'm sorry to be blunt, but he's hurt, he's heartbroken and he is in a world he doesn't know, similar to how you were, except you had people around you and he is the world's most feared assassin who just lost another big chunk of his life. Again. His safe haven in Wakanda is gone, he is expected to be a part of a group of people he fought a few years back. We aren't his friends, not yet, we're just a group of people that went through a traumatic experience together and fought their way out together. We haven't had fun together, watched a movie or relaxed, we're all still in some sort of survival mode. A bond created in death and war and fighting, but not based on mutual understanding. On top of that his best friend completely changed in a blink of an eye and he has to come to terms with the fact his biggest secret is out now, that you know his feelings... To be honest, I'm surprised he's managed this long. Anyone else would've either had a complete meltdown or..." Sam doesn't finish. So many others have killed themselves for much less. He knows Bucky is depressed, but he doesn't know if he is suicidal.

He just knows he is right about this.

"Sam, if what you're saying is true, we have a huge problem. How do we approach him? I don't think he will allow me to help him, I'm one of the biggest reasons he is hurting. I hurt him, I know I did. The more time passes, the more I think about my life before, the more I see it, you know? I can see what you all saw, I can see how he'd look at me and I, I was too dense to notice, too caught up in my own head and Captain America responsibilities to stop and think about what's going on with him.”

Breathing slowly Sam tries to think of a response, before his eye catches the shelf with photos. He knows which one upset Bucky immediately, however another thing stands out.

"Steve?" 

When Steve looks up, Sam can see the sadness and pain in those blue eyes. They disappeared when he came back from his little jump, and now they are back. Even his shoulders are regaining a tightness that they lost with age.

"Were your feelings for Bucky always platonic? Did you never think that maybe you felt more?"

"Why?" 

Sam points to the photos. "I know you didn't have an easy time out of the ice, that you struggled to catch up, and you hid it very well, but... Have you noticed that your smile in these two photos is exactly the same..." He indicates the one with his family and the one with Bucky. "... yet in these two it is different?" Sam points to the other two. 

Standing up Steve goes to stand next to Sam. "Bucky was all I had for so long... When my mom died he took me in, took care of me, held me when I cried, tried to warm me up when I was cold and my scrawny body didn't produce enough heat... I'd wake up and be cradled against him, our legs intertwined and his breath on my neck. He didn't care what anybody thought, not once, I knew by our early twenties people started to ask him when he would settle down, ask him when he is planning on going steady with a girl... He always laughed it away, said something stupid and put his hand around my shoulders, 'Come on, Stevie, let's go get a drink.'"

"What would he usually say?”

“That he hasn't met his sun yet.” Steve looks away. Bucky called him a sun that night. 

"Sun... interesting choice of words."

Steve glances back at Sam. "What do you mean?"

" _Sun_ doesn't indicate gender. He probably knew he was gay, or whatever he identifies as, from an early age, but still acted straight. I mean, anything else was a death sentence back then, wasn't it?"

Steve nods. "Yes. If they even suspected you, they would beat you up and leave you for dead. There were quite a few police reports that said _mugged_ instead of _murder_."

Sam shakes his head. "You know, the more I learn about those times, about Bucky, the more I respect him. Hiding his true self like that for years, and then the war... the fall... I completely understand why he has difficulty coping, the problem is that the way he does it seems so reckless. Who knows what he'll get up to when high? He might seek out company just to feel something that won't remind him of this life." 

Staring at Sam with confusion Steve walks back to the desk. "Like what? He won't go to prostitutes, he isn't like that."

"He isn't like what?" Sam asks.

" _That_ ," Steve replies, trying to get his point across. Sam steps closer.

"And what is ' _that_ ' exactly? Listen, he is an enhanced, biologically young man, and these days you don't need prostitutes to have sex. Even if he's exclusively into guys he can just go to a nightclub, hell, even the supermarket, have you seen those eyes of his, those cheekbones? The question is, why would it bother you if he seeks some intimate relations? You lived out your 70 years in a happy relationship. And don't take this the wrong way, but you got plenty, just look at the pictures. Barnes deserves some. He deserves intimacy too, just like everyone else," Sam defends, his voice strong and sure. Steve steps closer.

"You came in here, telling me you think he's on drugs, and now you're okay with the idea of him sleeping around?"

"I do think he is using, but I also know that drugs are probably a crutch for him at this point, a bridge, something to help him overcome certain obstacles in his life that he may not be able to handle on his own. That is most of the time the reason people are using, to find a way to cope. And yes, if he gets some on a regular basis and it helps him move on, I'm all for it.” Sam's voice is soft, the anger fizzled out. Steve's quiet too.

"Obstacles like me, coping with me?"

"Like _everything_. Come on, man, think about it. Everything he's gone through."

"What about what I went through? Apparently, that doesn't count, 'he got to live his life, boohoo,' give the old man a break!" Steve counters.

"It does count, but you know what?" Sam walks even closer, so they are standing nearly chest to chest. "You had 70-plus years to get over it, you had a wife and kids and grandkids, you had Thanksgiving dinners and anniversaries. You saw your chance and you took it, when did Bucky get his? You came back when all of this was old news to you - to us, to him, it's still very, _very_ fresh, and we still do double takes in the bathroom to make sure we're real! We still wake up with the smell of death and gunpowder in our noses, we have blisters on our hands from trying to rebuild a base that was destroyed, we still hear the screams of aliens, of people around us dying... We still expect Natasha to bounce into the room and give us her snark, we expect Tony to waltz in with an offensive nickname and blaring rock music. To you this is something that happened a very, very long time ago, so I think it's time you get over yourself and your little house on the prairie life. It's time for you to realize that _this isn't about you anymore_. Bucky needs help and we should give it to him." Sam's breathing is fast and shallow as he stares at Steve, who stares back, his eyes filled with shock and admiration. This is the first time Sam gave it to him like this, blunt and straightforward. His shoulders sag. Sam is right.

"I'm terrified," Steve finally gets out.

"Of what?"

"My incompetence. Failing him again, losing him, when he's never, ever failed me."

"Fear or not, you need to get over yourself. He's your best friend, your friend for nearly what, 100 years? Don't let one decision ruin that. You're bigger than that. And with all due respect, if you don't do something immediately, chances are you already lost him."

Steve eyes trail back to the photos. Looking back at Sam, he steels his eyes. "We need to confront him, and soon. I'm not looking forward to it, but we have to, we might not get a chance later on.”

“Like an intervention? That is not a good idea, Steve, you know that better than anyone else. Confrontation is never a good way out, it will just antagonize him even more!” 

“What else am I supposed to do, Sam? We don't talk anymore, he's spiralling out of control, and I can't just sit back and watch. I won't. He isn't giving me a choice, how else am I going to make him listen to me, get any answers?” 

Sam frowns as he looks at Steve. This situation is taking a toll on them, and he knows that confrontation might make it worse, but it might also actually help. There's no telling how this will end. Steve knows Bucky much better than Sam does, after all. That's got to count for something.

Steve feels at the end of his rope. Still looking at Sam he asks the next question. "Where is he?"

"Last I heard he was in the gym, but he's probably done. Are you sure you want to do this?” Sam replies, hoping it will at least not come to a head in public.

“I am. I'm going.” 

Sam really isn’t keen on confronting the man, but there's no changing Steve's mind once it's made. He'll go with, if only to be the one with a clear enough head to limit the damage. He has to play some sort of intermediary, those two on their own these days are like gas and a match, just begging to be ignited and burn each other alive.

“Maybe his room? It's more private than the gym. You don't want anybody barging in and making him feel even more cornered. Are we really going to do this? Now?” _Please say no, please say no..._ Sam should know better, Steve may be old, but he is still Steve.

“Yes. Let's go.”

“Before we go... You never did answer me, did you ever think of Bucky as anything more than a friend?" Sam asks, the image of Steve smiling at Bucky still on his mind. There must have been something, the way Steve acted all those years ago? There has to be more to it than friendship, or debt because Bucky always saved his life.

"How could I? It was the 30's,” Steve answers as if it's obvious. 

Sam rolls his eyes. "Just like he could, also in the 30's. If you're going to find excuses, try harder.”

“I'm not trying to make excuses, Sam.”

“Well, whatever you're trying to make, I ain't buying. Now let's go,” Sam replies and opens the door to start in the direction of Bucky's room. He really hopes Steve knows what he's doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult chapter to write, and I had to rewrite it several times. Sam would never knowingly agree to an intervention, they never turn out well. Steve on the other hand is exactly the type to go head first into a confrontation. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So what, you're going to continue to use drugs and sleep your way into getting over your feelings for me?” Steve blurts out, bitter.  
> Bucky spins around, matching him anger for anger. “Oh, well, I was going to get into a time machine and live a whole new life, but unfortunately not everyone gets to move on by going back into the past, so excuse me for enjoying the future and what it has to offer."

Opening the door, they see the room is empty and Bucky's nowhere to be seen, but they do hear the shower running. Sam immediately walks over to the desk and looks at the glass with little drops of condensation and half melted ice cubes still swirling around the bottom, clearly used recently, and the half empty bottle standing next to it. He picks it up, whistling softly.

"What?" Steve asks. Sam holds out the bottle.

"Everclear, 92%, very potent. Very expensive, too."

Steve slowly walks closer, his eyes on the bottle. "Enough to make him feel it?"

Sam shrugs. "Probably. Man, he really isn't fucking around."

The water stops running and they both turn to the door, hearing Bucky step out of the shower, humming a song under his breath.

"Okay, here goes nothing..." Sam whispers and leans against the desk, the bottle next to him. Steve steps back, standing close to the door.

Bucky walks out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and another around his neck, drying his long strands of hair. He stops as he feels someone in the room and slowly looks up, not showing any discomfort about being half naked. Steve can't help but look at him, the scars have faded so much since he saw them the first time all those years ago. They used to be red and raw, so ugly, but he was so ecstatic Bucky was still alive he didn't really mind. Now they are so soft, so faded... He looks back at Bucky's face, blushing a bit.

"What's up? Do we have a mission? It's a bit soon, isn't it?"

"Not that kind of mission," Sam replies, already using his "therapist" voice. Bucky's eyes narrow into slits as he slowly removes the towel from his neck and hangs it over the bathroom door. Glancing between the men he stands straighter.

"Okay, I'll bite. What is this, and can we make it quick? I'm going out tonight."

"Where to?" Steve asks.

"Wherever the hell I want, might get a bite to eat, see a movie, I do have five years of culture to catch up on. Again," he adds to make the other two cringe.

"Barnes... I need you to know we are here for you, and I know that the last few months haven't been easy-" Sam starts, but Bucky doesn't give him a chance to ease into it.

"Spit it out."

"Are you using drugs?" Steve asks straight when Sam doesn't answer. Both men watch Bucky freeze up.

"Excuse me?" he grits out, staring at them. Neither of them shies away.

"You heard me."

"Why would you fucking care?" Bucky spits out with venom, and Steve just stares.

"So you are?" Sam says, standing up.

Looking down, Bucky takes a breath and then looks back at them. "I think you should both leave, whatever this is supposed to be, I'm not playing along. I've put up with everything else I've been dealt with so far, but this is where I'm drawing the line. You will _not_ corner me in my own room and pry into what I do in my time off."

"We are worried about you. We want to help you, I know this feels like an invasion of your privacy, but we are concerned. I, we just want to help you," Sam tries, but knows it won't change anything. They've failed spectacularly.

"You don't need to, okay? I'm fine. I'm not about to lose it, I know I'm scrambled eggs up here” - his finger points to his head - “but I'm good, okay? I'm fine, real fine, moving on and everything... Ready for act 2 or whatever act we're on now. So if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready."

“Bucky, listen...” Steve tries a final time. Bucky turns to him, anger in his eyes, however before he can say anything his phone rings. Sam turns to the phone resting behind him on the desk. Picking it up he looks at the screen, the face of a young man filling it. The guy isn't wearing a shirt, his hair is spread on a pillow and he's smiling wide. The caller ID reads 'Cody' in bold letters.

“Is he your dealer?” Sam asks.

Bucky snorts and grabs the phone, answering while turning his back on them. “Hey, what's up?” Steve looks at Sam, both shamelessly listening in. “Yeah... yeah... I'm getting dressed now. You did? That's great, okay, oh come on! You cannot do that and expect me to keep within traffic regulations! Sure... okay, got to go.” Hanging up, he ignores them as he picks up his clothes and turns back to the bathroom. Sam takes a step closer.

“Barnes...”

Bucky raises his hand, his back to them. “You said your piece, now I have somewhere to be.”

“So what, you're going to continue to use drugs and sleep your way into getting over your feelings for me?” Steve blurts out, bitter.

Bucky spins around, matching him anger for anger. “Oh, well, I was going to get into a time machine and live a whole new life, but unfortunately not everyone gets to move on by going back into the past, so excuse me for enjoying the future and what it has to offer. I'm not an addict, I have a pill every now and then to take the edge off, and Cody, he likes me for _me_ , he doesn't even mind the fucking metal arm or who I used to be as long as I don't judge him, and you know what? It works for me, cause I don't want judgment for my past and maybe it isn't ideal, but I did tell you, the other night, my choices, my life... it would be _for_ me, _by_ me, no one else. My choice. You had yours, you left, and none of us said anything, we just clapped our hands and wished you well. This is mine. Now I am done talking about this. I want you both out when I get back. Sorry the little puppet didn't play along with your intervention.”

Reeling with anger, Bucky is glad to see them listen and leave. Frowning, he looks around, wondering how they found out. They weren't supposed to know, he made sure to be as unobtrusive as possible. He is doing what he is supposed to, working his ass off and looking after the people in this building.

In all honesty he isn't really that surprised. Sam is good at this, he's been dealing with things like that for years now, he knows the signs, he most likely saw right through him. It doesn't matter anymore, it's out now. He will deal with it. At least they didn't go to any extreme measures, they just talked, asking a simple question and he can respect that, he does. The new Avengers need to be in tip top shape if they are to be the defenders of the new world, and that means both mentally and physically. You need to be able to rely on the person next to you to watch your back. Bucky can do it, no problem, he's been doing it for most of his unnaturally long life.

He can fight, that's a guarantee, he can watch their backs, but in the end, they need to know he isn't going to run off somewhere, or be high or drunk or in a bad mental space when they need him. He knew since the moment he craved that pill the second time, the day after that night with the girl, he was skating on thin ice. He could spiral so far down he might have problems getting out of it. But he's not even close to that, is he?

Sitting down on the bed, he pulls on his shoes. He is fine, really, he is making, has made, good progress, he is in his right mind, with the occasional setback, but it's fine. The pills don't affect him like other people, they work more like some sort of anxiety meds, helping him stay off the cliff's edge. They keep the darkness at bay. It's like standing on the edge of the knife and the darkness is like the wind, any little bit of force can make you tip over or slip, and you're always wondering what direction you will fall. He runs his hands through his hair and a low growl escapes his mouth.

“Fuck!” Everything is so messed up. He can admit it.

With his shoes tied he looks down at his feet, his mind elsewhere. He has to make a decision, something _has_ to give, and something needs to change. He should stop now, while he still can... Yes, he still needs to make peace with his life, but the pills aren't the problem. He's not addicted, he just needs them every now and then.  
He is alone, he has Sam and the rest of the team, but they aren't a family, not yet. They are a group of people, bundled together by a common cause, but it's not as if he can go to Scott or Clint and talk about his life, they have their own problems to deal with. Shuri is rebuilding a kingdom alongside her brother, he can't bother her with his feelings for Steve, his unrequited love.

He knows drugs are not the way to go, but he is feeling so disconnected. The old Bucky had no problem talking to people, making friends... The new Bucky has no idea how to even start, he still looks at people and appraises them as potential targets, he still immediately catalogs the quickest exit routes when entering a room, he sees a building and the first thing he thinks of are security weak spots. He still sleeps with a gun under his pillow, a knife or two on him at all times.

Standing up, he picks up his jacket and walks to the bedroom mirror. His hands are clean but he feels detached, only good for killing, still plagued by nightmares that someday he won't be immune to the trigger words, say them and the Winter Soldier will rise again.

He only wants a chance, a chance to move forward, to create something out of this life he has scraped together that he can be proud of. He isn't dumb enough not to realize that he should also get over his anger at Steve - after all he did give his blessing, just because he is unhappy with the result doesn't mean he can take it back. He should decide how he feels about Cody and if this fling has the potential to be something serious or not. Both of them were in a bad place when they met and both are using the other to take the pain away. He needs to figure out if they could be more, and if they can, is he really ready for it?

Shaking his shoulders, he tries to shake his thoughts too, it's time to go. Grabbing his wallet and phone he leaves the room.

Regardless of what happened today he will have to talk to Cody and take it from there. Tomorrow he might be out of a job. Steve will certainly request his presence, after all he is the boss now. And he will need to know how to move on, whatever might happen. Tonight just may be his last night of absolute bliss.

Sam and Steve walk back to Steve's room. They need a new plan, they need to find a way to help, especially now that Bucky's admitted to using drugs. Cody was a surprise though. Sam is more worried about that than he would ever admit to Steve - sex is just like a drug, something used to feel, and in a wrong situation it can be just as dangerous. Steve also didn't seem to expect it and has no idea how to react.

"Do you think that _man_ is his dealer?"

Sam falters but recovers quickly. “Cody?” Sam asks and he can see Steve's nostrils flare in anger.

"Yes, _Cody_."

Did Steve just use a _tone_? Sam wonders but pushes it aside. They need to stay on point. "I don't think so, not from what I gathered from Barnes' answers, maybe he's just a friend."

"Yeah, right, did you see he wasn't wearing a shirt and the way Bucky talked..."

"I did."

"You said earlier that you thought he might try to find some company. Well, looks like he did."

Oh, he did use a tone, isn't that something. Sam ignores it and goes on. "Did you hear what he said? Cody accepts him for who he is, he doesn’t mind his arm... Bucky has very low self-esteem after you rejected him and is trying to find ways to deal with things. Trying to find a way to connect with people that doesn't involve killing, most likely. The question is, is Cody aware of it, and how serious are they? Is it just sex or do they share a connection?”

Steve stops in front of his room and opens the door. When he turns Sam feels his stomach drop. He knows this look on Steve's face, he isn't going to like what comes out of his mouth, not one bit.

"Let's go find out, shall we? It sounded like Cody has something that Bucky needs or wants, maybe it _is_ drugs, and if it is we're going to stop it."

Sam's eyes widen. “You want to follow Barnes?”

“Yes.”

“You must be joking; can you imagine what he'd do if he finds out? He already distrusts us, he's pissed that we literally cornered him in his personal space just now, can you imagine his reaction if he finds out we are stalking him?”

“It's not stalking, it's showing concern,” Steve answers as if it's obvious.

Sam stares at him, hoping it's some messed up joke. "You're serious. You want to go out there and try to find him? You have no idea where he's going. Not to mention what he'll do if we find him. He's angry already, and we both know that dealing with people in a situation like this you shouldn't provoke them further. He already slam-dunked our attempt of intervention, jeez! This is asking for a punch in the face. With his metal fist. It goes against everything we were taught in counselling. It's a spectacularly bad idea, Steve.”

"I know, but Sam, it's _Bucky_. I've failed him too many times to stand back now, if I can stop him from using tonight I will try. I _need_ to try. You're the one who said I must get my head out of my ass."

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean you should completely scare him off, which is what will happen if you - if _we_ \- do this. He is fragile, we need to use kid gloves when dealing with him.”

“No, no gloves. He won't appreciate it. He doesn’t think he's fragile, you heard him. This is his choice, so we will deal with it as if he was a normal man with normal choices.”

“Steve.”

“Sam, I can't lose him, I can't. I know I am _this_ close to losing him, and it's all on me, but I need to do this, I need to know I can help him.”

Sam tries to read Steve's face and finally nods. "Okay, but are you going to stop him from using or stop him from having sex with Cody? Because I'm sorry to break it to you, but those two have already done it, probably multiple times."

In response Steve just looks away and clenches his fists. Sam gives a long-suffering sigh. He isn’t sure if Steve is jealous because Bucky is with another man, or because at this point that man knows more about Bucky and sees him more often than anyone in this building does.

“How are we even going to find him?"

"The cars here all have GPS trackers in them, we're using those."

"I want this on record that I think this is a bad idea," Sam says, folding his arms.

"I will write it down," Steve replies with a smug look. Sam can only shake his head.

"You're still a stubborn ass, you know that, right?"

"Yes. I'm aware."

They wait for about an hour to make sure that Bucky is gone from the compound before they make their way to the garage. Steve is in a mood and Sam has no idea how to approach it or what brought it on. At this point there's so many options, the drugs, Cody, the fight, anything is a possible trigger. When Sam told him to get his ass out of his head, this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. And the question now is, what if it's too little too late? Is Steve going to make it worse? Steve is like a bull in a china shop, one part of Sam can’t help but make the comparison to the Steve he met running in the National Mall, the Steve that took on the world to get Bucky back. The Steve that didn't hesitate to fight his fellow Avengers for his friend. The problem is, is Bucky going to allow it like last time? Is he going to surrender his loyalty to Steve freely, like he did back then? The answer is no, he is not, he is going to meet the bull head on, or he is going to have a major setback. All of this isn’t making him better, not when his safe spaces have all been destroyed and he has nowhere to hide and recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve is once again going all out in dumb ass move, and Sam... He is just hoping to keep the casualties to a minimum. They know about the drugs now, and Cody, and have mixed emotions about it. I personally like the idea of Bucky trying to move on, just not his methods. He is doing it for the wrong reasons, the wrong way, and it will not help in the long run.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wait... Steve? As in _that_ Steve..?" Looking at Bucky, he goes on. "The Steve you're trying to forget, to move on? The one who left you for a chick, is a what, a ninety year old grandpa? Dude, that's fucked up, if he was young and cute like hot cheeks over there! But this guy, was he like your sugar daddy or what? You could be his grandson or something! Wow, the Winter Soldier likes them old..."

* * *

* * *

Bucky comes to a stop in front of the motel, switching the engine off. The drive made him think, and he knows now he needs to make a decision - he either stops here, quits cold turkey, or goes on. Either way, he and Cody need to have a conversation before things get more out of hand.

It's been fun, he's really enjoyed it, but he can't keep doing it, it's not healthy, not unless they hash things out. But the sex... The touch, he hasn’t felt like that in a very long time.

The thing is, he knows enough about therapy to know that _this_ isn’t what he needs. On the other hand, he is a super soldier, or he's supposed to be, he's not supposed to be affected. It's not like he can get addicted the way other people do, he burns through it so quickly... He can stop any time. 

He just needs _this_ , just a while longer. He'll quit as soon as he gets his feet under him. Being with Cody has been helpful to get his confidence back, he's finally able to be with a man and not worry about getting the shit beaten out of him in an alley. With Cody he can be just another guy, another civilian trying to move on with his life after everything that's happened. He can put his past to the side for once, he can put the gun down and pick up a momentary life of normalcy. The fact is he isn't quite ready to let go of that, even though he knows he should. Maybe after tonight. 

Tomorrow will be a whole different story of dealing with the aftermath of his fight with Steve and Sam. One part of him knows he must let them in, take the help offered to him. The other, stronger part is too stubborn - he got to where he is because of stubbornness, a deep-rooted need to survive, and he isn’t going to give it up without a fight.

Opening the door, Bucky climbs out of the car and walks to the front desk. He found the motel on the outskirts of the inner city and scouted it like he would a potential target. It's quiet and he can be in control of the situation when he and Cody meet up here on weekends. He's made a point to get to know the night shift receptionist to make sure they always get the room with the cleanest sightlines and an easy exit route. 

“Hi Marty, can I get my key please?”

“Hiya, your guy's already waiting for you, checked in some time ago. Here ya go.” Bucky takes the key, Marty not even glancing at him anymore. To him Bucky is just James, a regular on weekends, and since he fixed a bathroom sink in a pinch in the middle of one night he doesn’t even need to show an ID anymore.

“Thanks.” Bucky turns around and walks to the room, already feeling the slight buzz in his veins, anticipating the thrill. All things considered, he and Cody usually have a great time together.

Stopping in front of the room, he pulls out the key and unlocks the door, going quietly in and closing it behind him.

“Cody?” Glancing around the room, he notices the bedside lamps are on, the covers and sheets pulled back, and Cody is sitting on the edge of the bed, already half naked. Smiling he stands up, his eyes on Bucky.

"Hey, did you break any traffic laws?"

Bucky bursts out laughing, already feeling much better than a few minutes ago. Pulling Cody closer he locks his eyes with him. "I did not, can't spend the night in jail and miss you, now, can I?"

Cody mirrors the mischievous smile, letting his hands roam. Bucky slowly shifts his shoulders, so the jacket can slide off easier.

"You're a real charmer James, a real fine charmer," Cody whispers in Bucky's ear before he runs his tongue over his earlobe. Bucky shivers in response.

"Is that so?" 

With the jacket off Cody pulls him flush against him, his hands already trailing down to his belt, undoing the buckle. Bucky wraps his hands around Cody, lifting his T-shirt.

"We should talk," Bucky tries, but his heart isn’t in it.

"I don't really want to talk right now."

Seeing Cody's eyes Bucky knows he is already high, and this is where he would normally join him... But he doesn't, he can't, not tonight. Too many things have happened today.

"It's important. I had some company today, they know about you, about the pills."

"Hey, come on Babe, leave that for tomorrow, I have other plans for tonight."

"But... Cody-" Bucky doesn't get to finish his sentence as Cody pulls him into a brutal kiss. Bucky doesn't try to stop him again as Cody's hands get inside his trousers and push him to the bed. Tomorrow would be as good a time as any.

Sam and Steve make it to the motel about an hour after Bucky.

"There, there..." Steve points to Bucky's car. Sam comes to a stop next to it.

"So how do you want to play it?" Sam asks as he switches the engine off, waiting for Steve to tell him the plan.

"What do you mean, can't we just go in and find him?”

Rolling his eyes Sam opens the door. "In case you didn't notice, it's a motel, meaning there's quite a few rooms. We have no idea which one it is."

"We can ask the security guard at the lobby. He would take one either on the far right side, or the far left, but I bet it's the left as his car is on this side.” Steve smiles smugly, leaving Sam to pull a face.

“That may be true, but he is also the Winter Soldier, so he can choose the middle one and just jump out and run very fast.”

"That's a good point. But I think I'm right. He's with a civilian, he'll probably try to protect him."

"Oh, cause you know him so well?" Sam replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, I do, Sam. We may not be in a good place right now but I still know him."

"Didn't know him so well when you left him."

"Sam..."

"Yeah, yeah... letting it go..." Sam replies and gets out, walking to the entrance.

Looking down, Steve clenches his fist. He never expected that a five second decision could mess things up so badly. He expected things to be difficult when he got back, but not _this_. And now Bucky is trying to move on, and not really in a healthy way. He's found a man. A _man._ He never even knew Bucky liked men. He hid it so well. Too well.

"You coming or should I call elderly care?" Sam's voice startles Steve out of his reverie.

"I'm coming."

Climbing out, they walk towards the entrance. Once inside Sam turns to Steve. "You should ask, play the old man card."

"Why can't you?"

"Cause I'm a black dude and he's a white security guard, I've seen this movie and it doesn't end well. You should know that having, what, 30 years in a front seat."

Steve stands up straight, biting down on his tongue. "Thought you've let it go."

"I did, doesn't change the fact that I'm still black and the world is what it is. Now go, we don’t have the whole night."

Steve walks to the entrance, to the man sitting behind the counter. "Excuse me, son, I'm hoping you could help me. I'm looking for this man," Steve asks as he holds out his phone for the man to see, the screen showing a picture of Bucky. "His car is out here, but I'm not sure what room he's in."

The man looks at the phone and a scowl appears on his face. "Ah, gramps, your kid is here every weekend, why does he have to hide from you? What, you're a homophobe or something? I mean if you are, I'm not telling you. You can just forget it and piss off."

Steve is completely taken aback by the fierceness of the man immediately coming to Bucky's defence. Placing the phone back he smiles reassuringly.

"No, no no, I'm not. It's just, his best friend from New York came to visit, only in for one night and I know he would hate to miss him." Making up a quick lie Steve points to Sam, who smiles back with a wave, stepping closer.

"Yeah, we met in school, best childhood friends, I came to surprise him."

"Oh, that's real nice... He and his fella usually spend the weekends here, hardly ever come out. They're on the ground floor, left side, at the back, room 29."

"Thanks a lot, kid." Smiling Steve turns around and they walk outside, down the path to the indicated room. Sam is watching Steve closely, he takes the fact that Bucky and Cody are regular visitors at this motel weirdly in stride. Steve gets halfway down the path when he suddenly stops, causing Sam to almost walk into him.

"What?"

"He called me gramps, he thought I came to harass my kid. Why did he think that?"

"You tell me, since the LGBTQIA have such a great history of being accepted and all. He probably thought you're one of the old timers, it's an easy mistake to make."

"I went to a rally once, bought a rainbow flag and everything. Peggy didn't understand, said there were better ways to show support than being so in the limelight, considering my face. I didn't care, they had to fight for so long, a silent war at home. It wasn't right." Steve looks away as he talks, remembering.

Sam slowly places his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Steve, have you ever had a long look at the spectrum and tried to discover where you're at?"

"No, there wasn't a guide to these things when I grew up and then I went back in time to get married to a woman. Not exactly the optimal situation to examine my feelings about any of this.”

"You have time now."

"I have to help Bucky first."

"Steve..."

"I've done him wrong, I need to help him, however I can."

"Yeah, let's help him. But remember you can help yourself too."

Nodding Steve places his hand on Sam's and squeezes before he lets go. "I was right about his room."

Sam chuckles. "Yes, you were."

They find 29 at the end, close to the fire escape. The door seems to mock them, Steve thinks. He is the closest, but makes no attempt to knock. Sam watches him like a hawk.

"You're gonna knock or use the power of your mind?"

"Should I knock?"

"Unless Wanda rubbed off, yes, I would say so."

"What if _he_ opens?"

Annoyed by all of this, Sam looks at Steve. "Then we greet him and ask for Barnes."

"But..."

"Listen, this was your idea. Now seriously, man, come on."

"You do it."

Rolling his eyes Sam pushes Steve out of the way. "Move over."

Just as he's raising his hands to knock they hear a loud crash from inside the room followed by a “Holy fuuckkkk!” Sam doesn’t think twice as he pulls out his gun, steps back and kicks the door down, rushing inside with Steve on his heels.

Inside is a scene he's never likely to forget, as much as he immediately wishes to unsee it. Bucky is on the bed, or what's left of it, rumpled sheets and pieces of a broken headboard all around him. The bed clearly broke in half, leaving the men in the middle of a sagging mattress. Between Bucky's legs, on top of him, is a man, completely naked, his back to them. Both are laughing hysterically, until they register the open door and the two men that rushed in. Bucky stares at them, his eyes wide, filled with panic, as Cody keeps laughing. Sam is still pointing the gun, Steve right behind him. Both stare at the two men on the floor.

Bucky is filled with anger, shame and fear, and all colour drains from his face. The moment is broken when Cody, still laughing, his hand on Bucky's chest sliding up towards his neck, cups his cheek as he lays giggling kisses on his skin.

"Can't believe we broke the bed! Knew you were strong, but damn..."

Finding some sense, Bucky pushes Cody off his body. "Stop... Hold on... We have company."

Lowering his gun, Sam decides to bite the bullet. "Barnes, this is way more than I ever wanted to see of your white ass."

Glaring, Barnes tries to get up again, as Cody turns around. "Hey, it's my white... Fuck, who are you guys, and is that a fucking gun! What the fuck man?!" Grabbing the sheets Cody yells at them, trying to cover himself. Steve finally shifts his eyes from Bucky to Cody. If looks could kill...

Sam holsters his gun and tries to defuse the situation, holding out his hands where they can see them. "Sorry, man, we just heard a crash and a yell, thought there was trouble."

"So you came in with grandpa as back up? Have none of you ever heard of a wild fuck?!"

"Cody..." Bucky is trying to keep it together, but it's not easy. He shifts so he can sit up straight, his hands reaching for the other blanket to cover himself as he tries to get up. Turning back to Bucky, Cody points a finger at him.

"You're not fazed, and I know it's not cause you didn't take some E. You know these Rambos, don't you? You've said that you are no longer wanted! I take it they aren't the police?”

"Yes. That's my work partner and the other one is my boss."

"Nice, Barnes, work partner." Sam jokes, trying to make light of the situation. Steve is still staring at the two men, Bucky ignoring him completely in favour of glaring at Sam.

"Partner would give the wrong impression."

Chuckling softly Cody turns to Bucky. “Oh Babe, I don't mind if you share, he is certainly cute. But not the grandpa, he might get a stroke or something..." Sam groans loudly and turns away, mumbling something about bleaching his brain after this.

Bucky tries to wrap the blanket tighter around his waist as he's standing in front of them. His clothes are five feet from him, and that will put him within three feet of Steve, which is about thirty feet to close. The door is about ten feet away and he can make it with three steps and be out of here... yeah... that sounds good. Just keep it together... the car... keys in his jacket, which is five feet from him, which is three feet from Steve... wait... he... walk... he can walk... probably...

With a shake he looks at the men again, wondering if Sam can help him get his clothes. Cody has other plans, with the sheet still low on his hips he smiles seductively at Sam.

“So, you just happened to walk by and decided to save James from having the best fuc-"

"Cody!" Bucky barks, his voice flat. Sam looks at him with clear concern in his eyes.

Shrugging his shoulders Cody walks back to the desk, leaning against it and picking up a cigarette pack. “Sorry, Babe.”

“Babe?” Steve finally finds his voice turning to Cody, missing how Bucky recoils into himself at his slightly hysterical tone. The room is getting smaller, he can feel it, he needs to go, get out... but he needs his clothes... where... oh yes... five, no, four feet from him, three feet from Steve, one feet difference...

“Well, he is one, have you seen those thighs, have you been between-”

“Stop!” Bucky holds up his hand, trying to grasp what is happening. He slowly turns to Sam and Steve. "Can you two please leave now?"

Ignoring the question, Steve takes a step closer to Bucky. His voice is soft, as if speaking to a child. “Did you use?”

Bucky shakes his head. He wishes he did, he wishes he took the whole bag, if only he could forget this whole evening. "Is that why you followed me?"

Taking a step closer, Sam answers the question, hoping it will calm Bucky down. He's so tense, he looks like he'll bolt any second. "We were worried."

It works to an extent, Bucky's shoulders sag in resignation. He should've known that Steve wouldn't just leave it. He should've expected this, but then again, he isn't sure he knows Steve anymore.

He just wants to go home, but he doesn't have one anymore, not really. The compound doesn't feel that safe yet. The truth is, he just wants to be alone somewhere, to find a place to hide, to find a way out of this mess. Not only did they find out about his drug use and he needs to face the idea he will not be able to use again, but most likely his relationship with Cody is officially over. There's no way they can go on after this, Cody will probably realise how messy screwing an Avenger is as soon as he sobers up. Once again his coping mechanisms are destroyed. One day. It took Steve one day - one evening, really! - to break everything Bucky's pieced together for himself.

"Can you please leave now? I think you've done enough already."

"Buck..." Steve takes a step closer and Bucky steps back.

“ _No_.”

“This isn’t the way to deal with everything, I know I messed up but let's sit down and talk about it, using drugs and sleeping your way through New York isn’t a good way to get over your feelings, it's not a good coping method.”

Bucky slowly looks up at Steve, his eyes burning with anger. “You think I’m fucking around to get over you?”

“Oh, and it's not 'around', it's just me,” Cody interrupts gleefully. Both ignore him, staring daggers at each other. Sam takes a step closer to them, ready to intervene.

“Bucky, come on, I know you're angry at me, but this is not the way to go about it.”

“Seriously, Steve, I do have other things in my life that are fucked up, my world doesn't revolve around you!”

Before anyone can say something Cody steps closer. "Wait... _Steve_? As in _that_ Steve..?" Looking at Bucky, he goes on. "The Steve you're trying to forget, to move on? The one who left you for a chick, is a what, a ninety year old grandpa? Dude, that's fucked up, if he was young and cute like hot cheeks over there! But this guy, was he like your sugar daddy or what? You could be his grandson or something! Wow, the Winter Soldier likes them old... that's something...”

A dead silence fills the room. Bucky closes his eyes, then looks down, his gaze completely empty. Where's his clothes... does he need them... he wants out... he needs out... the room is getting smaller...

Steve turns to look at Cody with surprise, before turning to Bucky. Bucky told Cody about him? Cody knows about Bucky's feelings? He knows who Bucky is? Bucky trusts _this_ guy with his feelings, but can't talk to his friends? He suddenly remembers what Sam said about them not being friends, not yet, just a group who fought a war together. Bucky doesn't feel comfortable with them, he knows they still remember what he used to be, his past. But so does this guy and he still wants him. Sudden guilt overcomes him. This is his fault, he didn't see - or, in hindsight, he didn't really look. He sees Bucky turning into a blank slate, riddled with confusion and fear like spots on a floor. Just like on that bridge all those years ago.

"Buck, I’m so sorry." He takes a step closer to Bucky but Sam grabs his arm, stopping him. Bucky is unpredictable right now, he just got ridiculed for his emotions. He's come a long way since DC, but there will always be bad days, and this one is turning out to be hellish.

"Man, this is so fucked up, mine left me for a girl too! Hey, grandpa, was she at least hot enough to dump this man for? Did she put out good?" Oblivious, Cody goes on, still high.

"You better shut up, son, right now," Steve growls.

"Or fucking what? Isn't it time for your bingo meeting?"

Bucky finally gets some sense back, crouching down and picking up his clothes. He can do this, he functioned for years without being in control of his mind, picking up clothes is far from the hardest thing he's ever done while dissociating.

Sam quickly picks up Bucky's shoes and hands them to him. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft.

Bucky takes the shoes and looks at Sam, grounding himself. Giving a sharp nod he slowly goes to the corner of the room and starts to get dressed. He can't go into the bathroom, it's even smaller than this room and this room is already claustrophobically small. Turning his back, Sam tries to offer him as much privacy as he can. He saw the way Bucky looked at the bathroom, the sudden panic flaring in his eyes before he pushed it down.

Steve stares at Cody with anger before he turns to Bucky. “We'll take you home, you cannot drive in this state.”

Pulling up his trousers Bucky glares at Steve. "I am not getting in a car with you. You can stay here and defend _her_ a bit more, that's the only thing you care about anyway."

"I will not stand for how he talks about my wife."

"But he can say whatever he wants about me. Oh, yes, that's right, I'm the drugged up mentally unstable guy you used to know. 80 years to forget all about me, right, awesome.”

“Buck, that's not true...” Steve tries, but Sam steps between them.

“Enough. Now is not the time, I’m taking Barnes home. Steve, you can follow us in the car, you two need some distance.”

“Sam-”

“I can drive on my own,” Bucky interrupts.

Turning to Bucky Sam lowers his voice. “No arguments. Come on, Barnes, let's get going. Steve can follow.” Sam glares at both men before they nod. Without looking at Steve or Cody, Bucky turns around and walks out the door, Sam following close behind.

Lighting another cigarette and opening a bottle of Everclear Cody looks at Steve. "So, how did you manage to get his heart?"

Steve doesn't answer. He really doesn't have a clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have no idea what to say about this chapter. I think catching Bucky red-handed is something they never thought they would witness, but here we are. Cody, Cody... He really didn’t help in the end there, did he, the things he said. It would make Steve feel even more guilty, but Bucky… he is beyond hurt, and this would not be something that helps his progress, in fact, he may have just taken several steps back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shrugging, Bucky smiles sadly. "It’s the truth. You know, if I did have the power to time travel? There is only one thing I'd change."  
> "What's that?"  
> "I'd make sure I never got off that table in Azzano, or survived that fall. Steve was already the hero by that time, he already had _her_ , my job was done."

The car is moving slowly but surely down the road back to the compound. Bucky sits quietly as his mind drifts off and Sam watches him, trying to figure out when would be the right time to break the silence. He figures it's best for Bucky to start the conversation.

Halfway home he finally finds his voice. "Was it his idea to follow me?"

"Yes. He said he failed you the first time, he didn't want to fail you again." Snorting loudly Bucky makes no attempt to talk again. Sam decides it's as good a time as any. "I know that tonight is one big cluster fuck of epic proportions, but I know, _you_ know, how much he cares for you. I'm not going to try and make excuses for him, but I do know you have to move forward from this and I'm sorry, drugs isn't the way to do it."

"I know," his reply is soft, his hands clasped together in his lap.

"So why? How did this happen?" 

Bucky's hands clasp tighter, the whirring of his arm breaking the silence. Taking a breath, he looks down before he starts. "It made me feel like I still had a chance, you know?"

"A chance for what?"

"To be happy, to be the person I once was, even if just a pale shadow of that guy... Outgoing, vibrant, still full of hope and excitement for the good things in life. It feels like the only thing I'm good for now is killing. I wanted to feel what it feels like to laugh without worrying again, to touch someone without hurting them, to feel something else besides the metal of a gun. To have a conversation and not worry about having an anxiety attack. To go out and meet people as myself, not as the broken, used up ghost." 

Sam keeps driving without a word, he knows now that Bucky is finally opening up, he will go on. He just needs the space and the time that he wasn’t given before. 

Looking out of the window Bucky continues. "The old ‘me’ went out on weekends, he loved dancing, he loved to joke around. I don't know any jokes anymore, not a single one. He - I – would walk into a room and make people laugh without any effort, put them at ease. Now I put them on edge." 

The more Bucky talks, the more Sam is realizing that he was right about Bucky and his reasons for using. He does it as a way to cope, a way to move on. Knowing that he can ask Bucky anything at the moment, he decides to go for it. "Was Cody the one who gave it to you?"

"No, I wasn't planning on using. It... It just... Sorta happened."

"When did it start?"

Listening to Bucky recount the story of meeting his dealer, Sam just focuses on the road in front of the car. He knows that this is helping Bucky, and he will not take his trust for granted ever again. He can see why drugs would make him feel better for a while, the problem now is that they need to break the habit, find something else to help him. Bucky shifts into a more comfortable position before he continues.

"It felt good, Sam, it was magical, she wanted me for _me_ , she didn't mind the arm, and she didn't mind that I hardly spoke."

"Did you sleep with her?"

"Yes. She left the next morning, giving me all her supply. The next day I bought more alcohol and went back to the club. I met Cody that night."

That is surprising, it means he's been seeing Cody for quite a while now. "And you've been meeting him regularly since then?"

Nodding, Bucky starts explaining. "His boyfriend dumped him for a girl, you see? Even today, there are certain circles where being different is frowned upon."

"And he knows about you and Steve?"

"Just the overall facts, it's a bit difficult to explain the whole 'going back in time for a girl who died ten years ago' thing. He knows that my feelings started in childhood, that I never stood a chance and needed to move on."

That's more than enough to build a bond, some sort of connection besides sex, which also means that tonight is more than a cluster fuck, it's another safe haven that was ripped from Bucky. Cody said some terrible things ridiculing Bucky and his feelings for Steve.

"What he said back there-" Sam begins.

"He was high. It doesn't mean anything."

"He still hurt you."

"I'm a grown-up, I'll get over it. Besides, at this point in my life I think hurt is like a default setting. Just the levels that differ."

"You need to talk to him."

"Cody?" Sam gives him a sharp look, he knows Bucky is trying to deflect. Sighing, Bucky looks away again. "Every time we talk, we end up fighting, I don't have any common ground with him anymore, I'm too..."

"Hurt?"

"Angry."

"A symptom of pain."

"Sam..."

"If we are going to be a part of the new initiative we need to get along, all of us. You two need to find a way to coexist."

He gets it, he really does, but he also knows something has to give. He can't go on like this. "I know, I thought by now I would be over it, be okay, but Sam..."

"I know," Sam replies softly. "Listen... Do you have drugs at the compound?"

"No... ah, fuck... I was supposed to get some today... I... uh... ran out?"

"How often do you use? And what effect does it have on you?"

"Uhm... it doesn't make a very big difference, I take it and it works like a mild anxiety pill, it's just enough to take the edge off, to calm me a bit. I researched it, how others are affected, my serum keeps it from taking over, I am still able to function, to think straight. It just keeps my head a bit clearer, keeps me from losing it, so to speak."

"How often?"

"If I'm in the field the whole day none, if there's meetings and training, once a day."

“Every time you have to deal with Steve for long period of time,” Sam offers. Bucky only turns his head away. "Dammit, Barnes."

"As I've said, it doesn't have that big an impact on my body."

"It's still an impact. No more, you hear? We need to get you clean. This has got to stop. Now.”

Bucky can hear the sternness in his voice, but also the worry. It _is_ time to stop, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. "It will take a few days."

"That's fine, and then you're going to start seeing somebody."

"I did, Cody."

"A therapist."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Barnes, you need help, we can give it to you."

"I'm not going to one of your meetings."

"I'll find you someone else to talk to."

"Not like there's anybody specialized in dealing with 100 year old brainwashed assassins. I just need some time. Oh, hey! Maybe I can go back, live a few decades, get over him, come back and we can all be best friends again, it will take what, 5 seconds... 10, tops."

"It doesn't work that way."

"Oh, yes, I forgot only the righteous and selfless heroes get that. The rest of us broken toy soldiers need to take the long way round."

"You need to work on that bitterness, it will eat you alive if you don't."

"Are you really okay with this, with all of this?"

"No, but I'm dealing a whole lot better than you." 

Shutting his mouth, Sam looks back at Bucky before turning to the road. They both got a bit heated, and he's probably just mucked it up. "That was out of line, I'm sorry." 

Shrugging Bucky smiles sadly. "It’s the truth. You know, if I did have the power to time travel? There is only one thing I'd change."

"What's that?"

"I'd make sure I never got off that table in Azzano, or survived that fall. Steve was already the hero by that time, he already had _her_ , my job was done."

Sam was really hoping to be wrong about this. Fuck, Bucky is suicidal. Not outright, not thinking about offing himself right here and now, but he is thinking about not being alive, about things being different. That's how it starts. The 'maybes' and the 'what ifs'. Playing it cool, he glances quickly at Bucky. "You think your job was to make sure Steve met Peggy and became Captain America?"

Looking to the side Bucky just lifts his flesh shoulder in response. "At least to make sure he stayed alive long enough to get the serum."

"You know that's not true."

"I really don't."

Turning away from Sam, Bucky leans his head against the window, his reflection staring back at him, eyes empty and tired. Looking so broken, all over again. Sam knows he will not get anything out of him for the rest of night, so he takes a breath and drives them back. Bucky's opened up more than he thought he would, especially after the breakdown at the motel. The problem is, how to proceed from here on out? Sam looks in the rear-view mirror. Steve is behind them, driving alone.

  
Steve is driving without paying any real attention to the road, silence in the cabin, his mind replaying the events of the night. He never expected to see Bucky like that, after... just after... 

He thought they would catch him using drugs, being reckless, but not literally in the arms of another man. It's clear that Cody knows a few things about Bucky, he isn’t bothered by the arm, nor the scars. They were comfortable in each other's presence, this must have been going on for a while now. A sudden dread is filling in his stomach. He knows he should be happy that Bucky is moving on, meeting new people, but Bucky didn’t even react to the door bursting open, still holding on to _him_ , his legs still wrapped around _him_ , his hands on _his_ back, his...

Steve's so glad there's nobody in the car to see the furious blush.

Not to mention that Cody wasn't fazed, still nuzzling Bucky, kissing his chest. If Steve was still young - or wasn't so utterly shocked - he would have thrown him out of the window.

He tries not to analyse this impulse too much.

“'Babe'... what kind of name...” Steve grumbles out loudly. "'He is one, those thighs...'" Cody is pushing every single button Steve has, and he has the overwhelming desire to punch something. His eyes catch the head on the passenger's side of the car in front. His best friend, the man who's saved his life so many times, who looked after him, who told him they'd be together 'til the end of the line'. Who took him in when his mom died, and now... a century old friendship may be ruined, forever. And it's all his fucking fault.

Steve wants to be in that car, he wants to be the one Bucky confides in, he wants to be there for him. He's beginning to see the level of hurt and betrayal that he's responsible for. He knows he has no right to interfere in Bucky's life, but he needs to _try_ , he needs to _fix_ _this_. 

How is he supposed to live with himself if he can't help Bucky? Bucky, who gave up everything for him, every single time? Since the very first minute they met Steve became his number one priority. He knew he was a coward for doing what he did. He thought he could go back and try to forget. It didn't always work, he still got nightmares, he still saw Bucky every time he saw a blue eyed brunet, he thought of Bucky every time he heard the word 'sergeant'... His heart would break when his kids asked him about his childhood or where Bucky was now and Peg would tell them he died and Steve would know... Bucky was out there, being broken, while he lived his happily ever after and did nothing to help.

He still remembers how he hid in the bathroom to cry for an hour when Peggy put Bucky's name on SHIELD's fallen agents’ plaque. To see Bucky Barnes celebrated as a hero... He spent more time making sure the museum got Bucky's uniform right for the exhibition than his own, he agonized over the photo to be used on that glass pane - he knew Bucky loved that picture, how he hated wearing a helmet... how fond he was of his Stark-made rifle... how...

He needs to make it right, there's no other option. He can do this all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has been quite revealing. In the prologue I wrote that Bucky would change the fact that the draft letter came, but quite a few things have happened since then that changed all of that. This pretty much makes him suicidal now, with that statement. I also think Sam is the right person for him to open up to. 
> 
> beta's note: If you ever feel like Bucky does - please don't hesitate to ask for help. Talk to a friend or a family member, call a suicide hotline, hell, even talk about how you're feeling with your online friends. Yes, it's okay to ask for help. _No, you're not a bother if you do that._ There's people who care, I promise. Take care of yourselves, butterflies *hug*


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking down he clasps his hands together, the flesh and the metal. He is so used to it now. “I'm not sure, I don't know if I want him to see me like this. I was the one who used to look after him, you know, and now... I know it doesn't make me weak, but he is old now and no one knows how long he's got. _I_ should be looking after _him_. Bucky takes care of Steve, that's how it's always been, it's how it's gonna stay. He lives his life to the fullest with other people, and Bucky gets the young and sick, then the old and frail. That's the rule.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, don't know if you noticed that it originally said 20 chapters, but this has been changed to 19. We've merged two smaller chapters into one big one for pacing reasons.

* * *

* * *

They get to the compound and all three men climb out. Not looking at one another they get to the entrance, each lost in his own thoughts. Bucky is walking in front of them, his back ramrod straight, his shoulders tense. Sam is reminded of his walk towards the glass jail he was placed in back after his arrest in Bucharest. They watch as Bucky opens his door and closes it behind himself, not glancing at them once.

Sam and Steve sigh heavily when they look at each other, both bone-tired. Steve looks down, afraid to ask, afraid of the answer. "Did he talk to you?"

"Yeah."

“What did he say?”

Sam steps closer to Steve, his face serious. "Are you serious, like real serious, about helping him?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Are you going to keep a level head regardless of what he says? Because he will aim to hurt, he will push your buttons. He will try to push you away.”

"Yes."

"Will you be there no matter what he goes through?"

"Yes, Sam, you know I will!"

"Actually I don't. Before Thanos, yes, now, after everything? I'm not sure, but I just have to trust you. You asked me to look after him, and I will, even if it's protecting him from you."

"Sam..."

"This is not going to fix itself overnight, but I should probably bring you up to speed. Let's go get coffee."

Without waiting for Steve Sam starts walking to the kitchen. Steve glances back at the closed door before he follows. Sam knows he needs to tell Steve everything, even about the possibility of Bucky being suicidal.

Once inside his room Bucky walks straight to his wardrobe, opening it and bending down to pick up a bottle of vodka. Today was a day he really wishes he could forget. The only good thing about it was the sex, he has never broken a bed before. Just thinking about it brings a grin and before he knows it he's laughing hysterically. The laughter quickly turns to sobs as he drinks, the bottle half empty with just a few gulps.

Every bit of progress he made in Wakanda has been ripped to shreds, taken away bit by bit. He feels just like he did back at the beginning, in Bucharest, an empty shell.

He'd _known_ what Steve was going to do after returning the stones, he could see it on his face - he was so tired, so drained that it was an obvious choice to go back. Bucky smiled and gave his blessing. In those five seconds he thought he would never see Steve again, but he did, he might not be the same, but it's still Steve. And that is one of the problems, isn’t it? He prepared for Steve's death, for thinking about him in the past tense, but he _didn’t_ die. Bucky just wasn't ready to deal with an old man. He should've known better, what's another 80 years for a body jacked-up on serum? Of course Steve lived to haunt him.

He knew Steve was going to have a good life and he wouldn't be part of it. Maybe that's why it hurts so much, he once had this idea that they would grow old together, that they would do the whole marriage thing together... Well, he didn't expect to get married himself if he survived the war, he knew he would give his life to the army, be a 'lifer' - he could have used that excuse to not get married. He never planned to anyway, nobody even imagined gay marriage becoming legal one day.

Still, he imagined Christmas dinners with little Stevie and his wife and the small blonde kids, that would have been a spitting image of their father, running around. He imagined being the overprotective uncle who would have given his life for Steve's kids if necessary - he protected their father and he would have protected them. But he didn't. He wasn't there.

Not for any of it.

His life got ruined the day he landed on that fucking table. When Steve saved him, he thought that maybe he can still survive this, but then he fell off that train and everything went balls up.

Bucky falls asleep in his clothes on top of the bed, the empty bottle next to him, tears still streaming down his face.

When he wakes up the next morning he sees he missed a call from Shuri. He can't call her, not now, not when everything is so raw and painful. Last night is still so vivid in his mind, he has no idea where to go from here.

She didn’t left a voicemail but there are two messages. Sitting upright in his bed, he opens them up.

Shuri

_You missed our weekly Skype call._

_You still haven't promised me to take care of yourself. I worry and I miss you, brother. Call me._

He should call her, but not now, he can't. Now he must pay attention to the day ahead, get up, shower, and put on the mask again. He can play his part. He can do this, he promised Sam no more drugs, which makes him antsy because he could really use some right now. He needs something to take the edge off after last night, but he knows he can't.

Standing in the front of the mirror, he looks at himself. There are bags under his eyes, his hair hangs around his face, lifeless. He lifts his flesh hand and sees it's shaking badly.

This means...

Shit.

Today he will need to lay low. He can't go out, not like this. If he wants to hide the fact that he used, he can't go out shaking like a leaf. He will not be able to do anything, there’s no way he can work. He can't hold a pen, he can't hold a gun, check the perimeter, nothing. He needs to stay indoors.

He needs to get help.

He picks up his phone again, struggling, he finds the right keys. The dial button is big and he manages to press it on the first try.

"Barnes?"

"Can you come here? Please?"

"You okay?"

"Withdrawing."

"On my way."

Without saying goodbye he ends the call, walks over to his bed and climbs on top of it, the trembling increasing slowly. Five minutes later the door opens and Sam comes in, holding a bag of drinks and snacks.

"Sam?"

"It's me. Here, brought you something to drink." 

Bucky tries to open the bottle of yellow liquid that Sam gives him. The lid falls from his hand and a few drops spill because of the tremors. Sam watches but keeps quiet. "What's this?"

"Electrolytes, keeping you hydrated."

Drinking the whole bottle in silence, he keeps his eyes averted. Not showing that it bothers him, Sam walks around, brings the recliner closer to the bed and sits down. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you are okay."

"You don't have to stay."

"I know."

"Why did you come?"

"Cause you called, you dimwit, now get some rest."

Bucky watches Sam as he starts playing some game on his phone. Laying back down he makes sure Sam stays in his line of sight before getting comfortable and folding his arms into his armpits. "Sam?"

Looking back at Bucky Sam smiles reassuringly. "You're welcome."

Returning the smile, Bucky closes his eyes.

Around lunch a soft knock breaks the silence. Sam's been reading and Bucky is just lying in bed, occasionally moving or falling asleep for a moment before shaking awake.

"Bucky? It's me." Wanda's voice is soft, comforting.

Bucky looks panicked for a second, then sighs. "Come on in."

Stepping in, she closes the door behind her, holding a tray with three cups of tea and sandwiches in front of her. Without using her hands. "Have lunch with me?"

"That's impressive." Standing up to take the tray, Sam can't help but be amazed at her abilities. He's seen it before, but still, it does make you smile and wonder.

“Thank you.” Picking up two cups, she walks over to Bucky and hands him one. His hand is still shaking, so using her powers she makes hers travel to the bedside table and places her hands around his, stabilizing them. She smiles. “Two is better than one, right?”

“Thanks, Wanda.”

“Don't mention it. I'm glad to be able to help. How are you feeling?”

With her hands steadying him, he is able to drink half of the tea before he lets go. “How did you know?”

“I sensed your trouble, been feeling it for a few weeks actually. It is not my place to interfere, but I can help you if you need it.” Wanda is speaking softly, sitting on the bed next to him and taking her tablet from the tray. Bucky is feeling guilty and opens his mouth to say something when Wanda puts her hands back on his. “Don't feel bad. It's not your fault. Now, you must be tired, move over so Sam can fit in too, next to me. We can watch a movie.”

Bucky looks towards Sam and seeing him smiling, he smiles too. Maybe, just maybe, they can become a team like they are supposed to. Sam picks up the tray to put it closer, before moving to the other side of Bucky. “Yes, we can make a Bucky sandwich, now what are we watching?”

“It's called 'Eragon', I read the book and saw they made a movie. It's quite old, but I'm still catching up.”

“Me too,” Bucky offers.

“So we can watch it, and if you like it, I will give you the book.”

“Thanks.” Bucky glances to Sam, who's busy texting. “Did you tell him?”

Sam nods. “Yes. He asked where I was and I told him. I'm not going to lie to him.”

“You don't have to.”

“He wants to see you, if you're okay with it?”

Looking down he clasps his hands together, the flesh and the metal. He is so used to it now. “I'm not sure, I don't know if I want him to see me like this. I was the one who used to look after him, you know, and now... I know it doesn't make me weak, but he is old now and no one knows how long he's got. _I_ should be looking after _him_. Bucky takes care of Steve, that's how it's always been, it's how it's gonna stay. He lives his life to the fullest with other people, and Bucky gets the young and sick, then the old and frail. That's the rule.”

Wanda and Sam share a quick look before Wanda puts the tablet down and takes his hands. “It's not how it should've been, Bucky, you're more than just a nurse. You're a protector and a friend. I may not know you very well, or for very long, but I would really like to, because I know, I just know that you are so much more. You are a very special man. I read about you, you used to dance, right? So I want you to dance again, teach me the... Londy Hip, or what was it?”

“Lindy Hop,” Bucky replies, his eyes filling with tears, a small smile curling his lips.

“That one. I want to live again, and I bet you do too, so together we will get there, and it will be amazing, okay? You don't have to see him now, not until you are ready to show him the parts you are okay with, and if this is a part you want to keep to yourself, that is fine. We will still be here for you.”

Bucky looks up at her, a tear running down his face. Reaching out she wipes it off his cheek before hugging him tightly. “Thanks.” When Bucky opens his eyes, he can see Sam is teary-eyed as well, but smiling. It's not going to be easy, but he won't be alone.

“You're welcome.” Letting go, she picks up the tablet. “Let's watch this movie.” 

Bucky's symptoms leave him tired and he shivers occasionally, getting cold then hot, and Wanda regulates the room's temperature to help him. When the movie is over, Sam looks at his phone, then back at the other two.

Wanda smiles, seeing the conflict on his face. “It's okay, I'll stay with him. We have to discuss the movie and how it differs from the book.”

“But I haven't read it yet!” Bucky grouses, his hands in his armpits because of another cold spell.

“It's okay, I did, and it's a three part book, so we have loads to talk about.”

“Thanks Wanda, I'll come back with dinner.”

Bucky doesn't say anything as he watches Sam leave, the door closing softly behind him. “I don't need a babysitter.”

“No, but you do need a friend.”

“Wanda-”

“Talk to me. I'm actually a great listener, you know? I spent so much time listening to Pietro, he always talked a mile a minute... He would've loved this movie, he was very fond of animals, as kids he would always try to chase the animals back home, he would've caught them, too, even before he got all... I wish he got a chance... you know? Like what I have now...” Wanda trails off, her memories of her brother clearly overwhelming her. Bucky never had a chance to meet him, but he's heard of him from Steve, back in Wakanda.

“You can tell me about him, if you want to?” Bucky asks.

Wanda turns to him. “Okay, tell you what, I tell you mine if you tell me yours.” Bucky looks softly at her and just gives a nod. “Okay, get comfy, Bucky.”

Sam goes to look for Steve and finds him in the lab with Bruce. Stepping in, he looks at them. “You left me a few messages.”

Sighing, Steve nods. “How is he?” Sam looks at Bruce and Steve adds, “Bruce knows everything, I've been talking to him, he knows about last night.”

“Well, he is withdrawing today, it's similar to the symptoms of a bad cold. He is okay now, drank some fluids and ate some food. Wanda is with him, we watched a movie and now they are discussing a book about dragons.”

“She will help him, Wanda can be very comforting,” Bruce offers, lifting his healthy hand to give Steve a pat on his back.

Steve smiles at him before looking back at Sam. “Do you think he will be in withdrawal for long?”

Sam shakes his head and Bruce thinks out loud. “No, he has a similar metabolism to yours, Steve. He said that the pill works like an anxiety med..?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, he says it takes the edge off, it just keeps him from having a panic attack or something, if I read the situation correctly.”

“So we can take it that today will probably be the worst day, tomorrow he might be tired, but I don't think we have to worry too much,” Bruce provides. Steve leans on the table, his hands folded, head hanging low.

“Steve...” Sam tries, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn't even really talk to him, when everything was over, you know? When you all came back through the portals and we fought. It happened so fast, then we had to pick everyone up, get them medical attention, and I was not in a good place after those five years, Sam... I was so tired, I was so tired of fighting, of losing everything. Then it was funeral arrangements and putting the stones back. I didn't even hug him properly, Sam.”

“Did he know about you going back?” Sam asks softly. He knew already that Steve never really dealt with his issues. Somehow he still hasn't in the 80 years that he was gone.

Steve looks up. “Yeah, the night before. I couldn't sleep, went to make coffee, found him sitting on the sofa holding a coffee cup in his hands, he was staring out the window. I sat next to him, I told him I'm thinking of staying in the past, getting some of that life Tony always mentioned. He put the cup down and looked at me, then he said, “You do what you need to, do what makes you happy. You were always a stubborn punk.'"

Bruce and Sam share a look. Pretty much everybody knew Bucky was working on autopilot that night, trying to get his head around losing another 5 years of his life on top of all the time Hydra took from him.

Sam steps closer to Steve. “Steve?” Steve looks up. “If he told you how he felt that night, if you two just talked before you left, would you have stayed with Peggy?”

Steve looks away, not answering. How can he? He doesn't know himself, and if he did... That would just create a whole new problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if the drugs worked like anxiety meds, it would still have an impact on Bucky, especially if he used them with alcohol. I don’t think with his metabolism it would be a full on withdrawal, but he would have some symptoms, at least for a day or two. I also think he and Wanda would bond after meeting at Tony’s funeral, they both lost so much, and they would try to comfort each other.  
> Oh, I chose Eragon as something he and Wanda could bond over because I'm a fan of the book, but also - the actor (Ed Speleers) who played in the movie is Sebastian’s co-star in the TV series “Kings”.
> 
> We've created a timeline for this fic! Click the image to see full size timeline of chapters 1-11:  
> [  
>  ](https://imgur.com/v26xCG9)  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If I said anything you would've told her and then I was going to be a lab rat. I didn't want that. I'd been one long enough."  
> "Peggy wouldn't have."  
> "Oh please, we both know she would've reported it immediately to find out what'd happened to me and how they could use it to their advantage. And you would've been right there with her. I may be semi-stable but we both know I'm right. You two were the same, living for the fight, for the war, to win, to kick Nazi ass; the rest of us just following orders like good little soldiers."

Bucky takes two days to get back on his feet, one dozing on and off, and another with a sluggish body and tired limbs, but more aware of his surroundings. He did try to call Cody once, but there's been no answer. He doesn’t see Steve in those two days, but he and Sam talk a lot, and he and Wanda bond even more. He feels like he needs to protect her, to look out for her, even though she's in many ways arguably the most powerful person in the compound. She talks about her brother, about what they went through back when they volunteered for the experiment. The guilt she still carries. He hugs her as she grieves and then she holds him as he cries, both of them trying to move on.

He gets out of bed on the third day and makes his way to the shower feeling much better. He's already spoken to Bruce and offered to start helping in the lab, where they need to box everything up and get ready to put the machine away. Forever.

As Bucky gets out of the shower, the laptop starts ringing, Shuri's face on the screen. With the towel still around his hips he quickly answers her video call. “Princess. How are you?”

“Where have you been?! You didn’t call me back, you didn’t even text, should I come there and whip your ass?” She looks torn between worry and anger.

Bucky starts laughing and sits down. “I'm sorry, things have been busy.”

“Sergeant James Barnes, I’m going to count to ten and you are going to tell me everything. Every single little thing. I will find out anyway, you know I will, so cut the crap. You look, to put it mildly, not great, you have bags under your eyes, your face is pale and your eyes are sad, so, ten seconds. Talk!”

Bucky sighs as he looks at her and he can’t stop the tears running down his cheeks. “Uhm... well... about four months ago, I went to a club...” As he starts he finds he can’t stop, recounting everything about the clubs and the pills, about Cody and the other night. He tells her everything. The call lasts about an hour before he finally calms down enough to take a deep breath. “How angry are you?”

“Very, but not at you, never you, Brother. I wish I could hug you, bring you home. You need to come home, just for a little while, please.”

Bucky runs his hands through his hair. Maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe some time away is exactly what he needs. But he can't, not right now, he needs to finish this. “Yeah, maybe in a few weeks, okay?”

“No, come home now!”

“There's something I need to do first.”

“Bucky!”

“I promise, I just need to do this and then I will take a break, okay?”

“What is it? What's keeping you from coming home?”

“I need to help Bruce put away the machine, put away any and everything to do with that damn thing, and then I will take a break. I will come and visit, I will come home.”

“Promise. I noticed you didn’t promise last time, so promise me now.”

“I promise. I will help Bruce put that thing away, digitise the data, record everything and then take a break.”

“Okay.” Shuri is quiet for minute, staring at Bucky, who recognises the signs.

“Ask, you're dying to.”

“Steve caught you doing the nasty, red handed?” Seeing the blush on his face she bursts out laughing. “Oh my god! He did!”

“Cody and I... we broke the bed, he and Sam kicked the door in coming to my rescue...” He explains, finally seeing some humour in it.

“Oh, god... I’m telling T'Challa!”

“No, come on!”

“And our mother, her white boy, breaking a bed doing the nasty...”

“No, you can't come on! Shuri...”

“Whine all you like... just tell me one thing.”

“Oh, really... do I have to?”

“Yes, as your little sister, it is my prerogative.”

“Okay, spit it out.”

“The sex... was it good?”

Bucky looks away before grinning back at her. “Yeah, it was damn good.”

By the time Bucky makes it to the mess hall, he's smiling and feeling much better, the talk with Shuri helping as always. Walking into the hall, he picks up a tray and loads it with as much food as he can, finally feeling quite hungry.

Turning around he sees Wanda waving him over. “Bucky! Come on, sit with us.” He can see Hope and Scott sitting with her. Smiling, Bucky makes his way over to them. They start talking about little things and he finds himself relaxing into Scott's retelling of the treasure hunt he built for Cassie when he was under house arrest. 

When Steve and Sam walk in they stop in the doorway, watching the scene. The four of them are laughing and telling anecdotes and Steve is feeling a familiar ache, wishing he could be part of it. He was, once, with the Howlies, with the Avengers, and then again, with his own family. He can see that this moment is not meant for him. He's made his choice and these are the consequences.

He hasn’t seen Bucky in two days, not since that night. He wishes he knew what Bucky felt for Cody, or if they've been in touch since that day. He needs to talk to Bucky, he needs to talk about what happened and how to go on from here.

Sam takes a step closer. “I think he's going to play a vital role in keeping this team together.”

Steve watches them. Sam is probably right, he has been every time so far. Bucky has always been the one connecting people. Steve was the one leading them, but Bucky... he was the glue, that was his role as the sergeant, keeping the Howlies a team, a family.

Bucky sees them first and excuses himself. He keeps his back straight and the smile on his face. “Morning, slept well?” he asks as he stops in front of them, making sure he looks both of them in the eye.

"Good morning. I did, thank you. You? Had a good breakfast?" Sam responds, picking up a tray as well. Steve is smiling, trying not to say anything that could cause a fight.

"Yeah, the savory muffins are awesome. I'm thinking about getting a head start in the lab, I know Bruce wants all the stuff in order before we store it, and the data must be backed up. Plus reporting, I do know paperwork," Bucky replies, his face open.

"Yeah, you were always the one who made sure everyone's reports were up to date," Steve supplies.

"I was a good sergeant."

"You still are, Buck."

"Thank you."

Sam watches the two as he loads his tray with breakfast. It's so... civil, so... domestic, they could be talking about the weather, not about the machine that changed their relationship forever. It's a definite improvement, but he wishes they would talk about things that actually matter.

"Bucky?" Steve asks, a serious tone in his voice. Oh no... Here it comes.

“Yeah?” Bucky responds, still amicable.

"Can we talk later on?"

"Sure, I'll come by your office, maybe before lunch?" Bucky replies and sees the quick look Steve and Sam share, but doesn't comment on it.

Steve looks bewildered for a moment before he composes himself. "Sure, perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome, now if you'll excuse me." Smiling one last time, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, head held high, back straight, arms by his sides and hands relaxed and open.

"Man that was something out of the twilight zone..." Sam mutters while loading his plate with food.

"I understood that reference. And I agree."

"I don't trust it, something's up."

"Like what? Maybe after everything he is seriously trying to finally put this whole mess behind him."

"Na-ah... That boy is up to something. It's just a question of what."

Walking down the hallway towards the labs, Bucky replays the conversation in his head. He thinks he's handled it quite well, he's surprised to find that he didn't have a breakdown or even blush seeing Steve again. The other night is still way too vivid.

Bruce is already waiting for him.

“One day I will get you to have breakfast with the rest of us.”

Bruce's whole chest is shaking with silent laughter. “I will, as soon as the mess hall is actually quiet for a change.”

“I hear ya.” Bucky looks around, his eyes on the machine again, trying not to show how much he hates it. Putting a smile on his face, he looks back at Bruce. “So, you and me, heavy lifting?”

“Yeah, we need to clear out the basement, they are building a special room for this thing. It's, well, Hulk proof.”

“Your old Hulk prison?”

“Yeah... we will keep it there for now.”

“So we just transport it downstairs, to the basement?”

“Yeah, but there's all kind of stuff in there. Good thing it was made to withstand me, too, it allowed some things to remain intact after the explosions.”

“That's good, right?”

“Yeah. Listen... I'm glad you're doing okay.”

Bucky looks down and tries to keep his face steady. “Bruce...”

“I'm not trying to pester you, I just want you to know, we all care, we all... Moving forward, it's not necessarily done alone.”

“Thank you.”

“Just remember, we are here for you. Now, let's go downstairs, shall we?”

“Lead the way.” Bucky tries to give him a friendly smile, but he thinks it comes out more like a grimace. Bruce kindly doesn't comment on it.

They manage to make excellent progress before lunchtime. Nearly all the stuff is out and there is enough place for the machine.

“So, when are we bringing it down here?”

“In the next few days, I just need to do a few final checks, go through the data, and then we can bring the thing down.”

“Good, and then we will all be able to move on,” Bucky replies, rubbing his hands together. Looking at his watch he frowns. “Listen, I got to go, I have a meeting with Steve.”

“Good luck, Bucky.” Bruce seems to know he will need it.

“Thanks.”

With a small wave he walks out and heads towards Steve's office, mentally preparing himself for every possible outcome. Trepidation fills his bones. He's really not looking forward to it.

Standing in front of Steve's office, he comes to the conclusion that he must think of the meeting as a mission, a Winter Soldier mission, to complete it. If he could survive decades of handlers, he can survive Steve. And isn't that something else, something he would never have thought. Handling Steve just as he would a handler. He wonders if Sam is going to be here as well. Lifting his hand, he knocks once.

"Come on in."

Taking a breath, he opens the door and walks in. Steve is alone. He closes the door behind him and sits down in front of the desk. It's sparsely decorated, walls and shelves empty, the computer and a journal on the desk along with a small tray with a few glasses and a jug of cold water. Against the far wall is a big screen, and Bucky knows it's usually filled with news stations and other things that must be monitored around the clock - it's quiet now though. Hill and Fury have a bigger office next door, connected via big sliding doors on the other side of the room. The room feels impersonal, Steve hasn't bothered to decorate since he got here.

"Hey, Buck."

"You know, you really should do something with this place, since you're going to be spending so much time here."

"Maybe later."

Nodding, Bucky waits for Steve to talk. The atmosphere is tense and very awkward, this seems to be their new normal since the day at the lake, when Bucky never came to the bench. It all went to shit after that. Bucky is quiet, waiting. He can do this all day. He fights a sarcastic snicker. Two can play this game, Stevie.

Stave is the one who caves. “I wanted to see you these past few days, but Sam said I should wait.”

“I didn't want you to see me like that. You've seen me worse off, but that was two years ago, sorry, 80 years ago, or is it 82? It's 82, sorry...”

Steve looks down, trying to figure out what to say to that. “You okay now?” _Lame, that was lame_.

“Yes. It was one bad day, yesterday was just spent relaxing, my muscles were sore, the shoulder mostly.”

“Why your shoulder?”

“Because my arm is gone? There's a metal rod inside, it's cold so my muscles contract more, plus there's metal reinforcements down to my ribs to support the prosthetic, shall I go on?” Bucky can't believe Steve could forget this, his horror at seeing the scans in Wakanda so fresh in his mind.

“No...” Another silence hangs in the air, it seems to be in unlimited supply today. Steve takes a breath and pushes through. "I need to apologize."

"For?"

"The other night. Sam didn't want to follow you, but I insisted."

"He told me."

"He told me a few things. After we came back, and since then."

"I figured he told you about my withdrawal. What else?”

"When you've started and why you've started and how long you've been seeing him."

 _Him_. Bucky could laugh if he wasn't so busy trying to keep it together. Him... he won't say Cody's name. Then again, Bucky won't say her name. But he had and still has a reason, he isn't exactly sure what it is yet, but he has one. Steve has none.

"Right."

"Buck..."

"This was never supposed to happen, you were never supposed to find out about my feelings, and I’ve kept it to myself for nearly a hundred years now. I think I still would've kept it a secret if it wasn't for my inability and failure to handle your return as effectively as I should have. I thought after all my years of experience and, you know... I would've been able to keep my emotions in check. Apparently the whole semi-stable thing is only semi-reliable."

"I should've talked to you before I left, in more detail than I did."

Shrugging, Bucky looks down. "You didn't need to, by that time you didn't owe me anything, especially not a detailed explanation on the choices you make. And as I've said that night, your happiness has always come first, you weren't happy here, you were happy back there. Besides, Sam has a theory about why I was unable to keep it together. I mean, for me, I woke up one day, got up, worked on the farm surrounded by goats like always, then T'Challa came down the footpath, carrying a black box and I asked 'where's the fight'... I saw you and Nat and Sam, we fought, I turned to dust, came back, a week later you were gone and back and I've just skipped another five years of my life. So it was a hectic month for me, but five long years for you. And now we're all here, picking up broken pieces of a life that really doesn't make sense. At least after the helicarriers, I disappeared and I could sort of keep track of things, this time... Anyway, it all worked out in the end, you got to be happy, and I'm, I'm getting there, and I am not disassociating, so hey, bonus.”

"Bucky, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, it's not your fault I'm a mess and can't handle the basics, it's not your fault that I resort to drugs to feel something other than whatever you want to call this," Bucky replies, waving his hands in the air.

"I should've known."

"No, that was the whole point, you don't need to know everything, and you had enough to deal with. I've never wanted to add to that and never will," Bucky fiercely defends.

"Is that why you never told me about your time in Azzano?"

The first chink in his armor. He didn't expect this. Breathing deeply, he looks back at Steve. "I was too preoccupied with your transformation, and when we got back and I saw you with... I realized I never could. You were different now, you had all those different responsibilities, and I wasn't going to stand in the way of you finally getting the war you were so desperate to join. Everything you've ever wanted just came true, the front lines, the war... a girl showing interest. Besides, if I said anything you would've told her and then I was going to be a lab rat. I didn't want that. I'd been one long enough."

"Peggy wouldn't have."

"Oh please, we both know she would've reported it immediately to find out what'd happened to me and how they could use it to their advantage. And you would've been right there with her. I may be semi-stable but we both know I'm right. You two were the same, living for the fight, for the war, to win, to kick Nazi ass; the rest of us just following orders like good little soldiers."

Steve sits still, jaw clenched, hands curling into one another. He wants to tell Bucky he is wrong but he can't, because deep down he knows the truth. If they'd known back then, Peggy would have gone to Colonel Phillips and Bucky'd have never been allowed to continue as a Howling Commando.

He wants to ask Bucky if he always hated Peggy, but that would be the wrong thing. He wanted to know why he didn't go home after he was rescued, why he stayed, but he gets it now. He didn't see it back then, and now he's 80 (or is it 160?) years too late.

He needs to find a way to help Bucky, to show him he's still his friend. He wants to know why he's so angry. Is it just because of his feelings? Is it because he chose Peggy? Bucky said that night he wanted Steve to be happy, and he was and still somehow it isn't enough.

"Bucky, why are you so angry about my decision, if you gave me your blessing?"

Bucky looks at Steve. How is he supposed to answer that? It's not just a simple 'because you left me behind', or a 'because I imagined it differently', there's so many reasons... But the biggest one? "Steve, as I said before, I'm so very happy that you got to live your life for once, that you had it all, everything you've ever dreamed of, especially since there were many times we didn't think you'd live past twenty. I... you will always come first for me, you and your happiness, and I'm not trying to take it away from you. I just... I need some time to make peace with the idea that you're a completely different person now, with different ideas and thoughts and a life I was never a part of. You are almost a stranger to me, I don't know what you've done for 80 years, what drove you each day, what you did for fun, how you dealt with that whole mess. You haven't seen me in 80 years either, you haven't... I haven't...” he trails off, trying to express the emotion gnawing at him, but he can’t. He changes the subject. “You need to know I did not go off the rails to get back at you. I went out to find the pieces of myself I lost before I shipped out."

"You and him seemed very familiar. Did you see men back in the 30's?”

"Didn't you and your wife ever have that familiarity after a couple rounds of sex? And to answer your question, yes. Occasionally, when I worked at the docks; then there was this one officer in London... Then one guy on the run before you found me in Europe. It was always just sex.”

Steve chokes on his breath. "That was quite direct."

Rolling his eyes Bucky, leans closer to the desk. "You saw me having sex, right after a very good orgasm, I think I can be as direct as I want.”

"Are you going to see him again?"

Sighing he leans back. "I think that ship has sailed after that night."

"I'm sor-"

"Don't you dare apologize. I'm done with sorries. I don't care anymore. To be honest, the list of things I care about these days has been drastically shortened."

For all intents and purposes the meeting is going quite well - they are talking and haven't fought once. The day is still young though, and Steve feels that something is changing. He looks at Bucky. "You still deserve to be happy." Bucky snorts, clearly not believing him. "You do, and if he makes you happy, I am happy."

"Don't... Please."

"Don't what?"

"Do that. Anyway, I think I've said enough, if I stay longer I will probably say something that will end up with us fighting again." Getting up, he walks to the door. He and Steve need to find some sort of common ground, one step at a time.

“Buck...” Steve asks, standing up. Bucky doesn't turn around but he stops at the door, his hand on the handle. Waiting. "I want you to know I'm here if you need me."

"Hmmm." Bucky knows he will never come to Steve again. Work and missions, okay, but anything personal? No. No way. The way he feels, the questions he still wants to ask, it's still too big an obstacle in their relationship and until that is sorted they will not be as they used to. They probably never will.

"Are we good?" Steve asks. Bucky sighs as he opens the door. He stops in the doorway.

"No, we're not good, don't expect too much so soon."

As the door closes behind Bucky, Steve sits down, hiding his face in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very emotional chapter to write, I needed them to have a talk, without fighting. They really do need to find some sort of common ground. I also firmly believe that one of the biggest reasons Steve fell in love with Peggy is because they were so similar, Bucky was right about them being the same. Peggy would have told Howard or Colonel Phillips, maybe they wouldn’t have made Bucky a lab rat, but they most certainly wouldn’t just leave him alone. Bucky saw that, he was already disillusioned by the war and the methods they used. Steve wasn’t.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like a matching set, an ultimate torture. In one reality, at the same time, he was twice tortured and left for dead, a ghost story that shaped the world, and simultaneously a bedtime story that made kids dress as him for Halloween.

Bucky goes straight to the far side of the compound and starts running at full speed, needing to be alone. He runs till he comes to a stop between a few trees, falls to his knees and yells as loud as he can.

Sam is standing in front of the window and gets a front row seat to Bucky's run towards the tree line. The meeting didn't go so well, he gathers. Walking towards Steve's office, he tries to think of what he can say, what he can do to help.

Knocking once, he lets himself in, and seeing Steve sitting at the desk he lowers himself to the seat Bucky occupied a while ago. “Didn't go too well?”

Looking up, Steve gives an ugly grimace. “As a matter of fact it went great, we didn't fight once.”

“You actually talked?”

“Yeah, not much, enough though.”

“So what made him run for the woods?”

“He ran outside?”

“Yeah. So what made him run and you hide your face like this?”

“I lost him, Sam, I know I did.”

Closing his eyes, Sam leans closer and looks at Steve. “Tell me what happened.”

So Steve does, words spilling from him like poison.

“Steve... I don't think you lost him. He said what he needed to say, this is progress, even if it's minuscule. You know now, you didn't fight, you've had a civil conversation. This will take a while, slowly but surely, and you two will start to talk again. Maybe it's like a festering wound, you need to let the puss out before it can heal. You both need to bear with each other, till the only thing left is the two boys who met in childhood, before all the bad grown-up stuff happened. Then you will be able to move on, and so will he.”

Steve tries to smile, but it doesn't help. Sitting back, he starts playing with the pen lying on his journal. “You know, as a kid, I wanted to be like him... He was everything I wasn't, good looking, healthy, well-liked, great dancer. I placed him on such a high pedestal. And he _saw_ me, made me his priority, and saved my ass time and time again.”

“Maybe it's time that instead of seeing him as someone you look up to, you should see him as just a man, flaws and all. He is just a man, at the end of it all. A man who loved and lost and is trying to make something of himself.”

“I wasn't blind to his flaws! He never wanted to do the dishes, he would cook but I had to do the washing up. When he went out dancing he would come back drunk, make a fuss as he got in the room, couldn't move quietly to save his life. And his hair... God, hours and hours in front of the mirror, with pomade, trying to get it get it to lie just right... that crooked smile...” Sam mirrors Steve's smile as he thinks back, wishing he could actually help these two.

They need to find each other again.

Bucky makes his way to the mess hall earlier than normal. It's still dark outside, the night hallway lights still on. Walking to the mess hall, he notices a light in the kitchen. Bruce is making coffee and eating breakfast.

“Bruce, good morning.”

Turning around Bruce smiles at him. “Good morning, can I pour you some?”

“Yes, please.” Taking the cup from the outstretched hand, Bucky looks over to the breakfast shelf. There's the usual cereal, and below it, a tray with muffin and pancake mixes. "You know, I still some days struggle to come to grips with how easy everything is these days. Pre-made muffins, pancake mix... Just add water? Cake mixes?"

"We live in a world where everything is becoming instant, waiting for something longer than 10 minutes is an abomination," Bruce agrees, opening the fridge and removing two foiled breakfast burritos. "Here, want one?"

"Sure, thanks." With burritos in hand and cups of coffee they sit down and start eating.

"You're up earlier than usual," Bruce comments as he looks at Bucky.

"Yeah, uhm. I'm thinking about going to visit Shuri for a bit but want to help you put away that thing and save all the data first."

"Thanks. I hear Princess Shuri is amazing with technology."

"She saved me. She's absolutely brilliant. You should come one day, you would enjoy it."

"Yeah, maybe one day. Shall we get a move on, then?"

Taking the last bite Bucky wipes his hands on the dishcloth and finishes his coffee. "Let's go."

With the basement now empty except for the wardrobe with the space suits and the things they need to put away, there is just enough space for the machine. Bucky carries the machine down while Bruce takes the console. It's heavy but both can do it with ease thanks to their serums. Two hours later everything's in the basement and only the database needs to be updated.

By lunch they're mostly done and Bucky is able to convince Bruce to have lunch with the rest of the team. They make their way to the mess hall to find the others already there. 

“Come on, Bruce.” Bucky indicates the table with Hope and Scott on one side, Sam and Wanda on the other. “Hey guys, can we join?” After a resounding 'yes', they sit down on the opposite ends with their trays.

“I've been meaning to ask, just how did you get out of the quantum realm, Scott?” Wanda continues the conversation they interrupted. Somehow everyone is still missing the finer details, especially those that were gone, which is everyone at the table besides Hulk and Scott.

“A rat, can you believe it? I was in there for five years, came out, saw the world, went to the compound and discovered what happened.”

“And the idea about the quantum realm? I mean, we went in to help Ava, but the whole time travel thing, how did that happen?” Hope is asking and everyone looks up. 

Bucky's interest flags. It's not what he wants to talk about over dinner... not this. Anything but this. There's been enough talk about the past already. He snaps out of it just in time to hear Wanda ask, “And you created different realities..?”

What the hell did he just miss?

“Yes. Like a big tree branching out. Everything's the same, same people, same lives, maybe with tiny differences,” Bruce explains.

“Like a parallel universe, in one you decide to go to the Army, in another, the Navy, and so on...” Hope adds, understanding a bit more.

“Exactly,” Bruce agrees. Bucky frowns at that. Is he saying there could be a reality where he lives, or where Steve stays? One where he isn't drafted? Where he goes home after his rescue and lives his life?

“So there's several new realities because of what you all did?” Leaning forward, Sam sounds intrigued. Bucky isn't, he wants to stop listening, but his mind keeps drifting to what Bruce said. It branched out, creating new realities, and all these new ones mean there are so many more Buckys out there who became Winter Soldiers, who watched Steve leave for... He wonders if the other Buckys also love their Steves so much.

With his mind drifting, he loses track of the conversation, just eating his food. No one notices he just gives the occasional smile and nod, deep in thought. He finishes his lunch, and he and Bruce make their way back to the basement. They work in silence, until Bruce sits back and says, “Okay, so the data is in order, the machine safely put away, now we can actually do something else.”

Bucky gives a snort. “Like what? After this we need to set up the screens, connect to every database in the world. And then there's the...”

“Woah... I think we can take a break, you need to visit Shuri.”

“Yeah, I just... I thought this was going to take longer.”

“You don't want to go?”

“I do... I just... I'm not sure.”

“Bucky, I don't want to pry, but are you okay?”

Snorting, Bucky looks away. “That's the thing, I don't know. Sometimes I think I am, I mean I'm no stranger to missing chunks of time, but...”

“It's not what I meant.”

“I know, Sam says he talks to you?” Both knows who the ‘he’ is.

“Yes. Do you talk to someone?”

He looks down, then back at Bruce. “I have people.” So far it's only Wanda and Shuri, he hasn't actually made an effort to talk to a professional. It isn't who he is. His secret is out after so many years, Steve knows, he was never supposed to. With everything that has happened, he wouldn't even be sure where to begin. Feeling uncomfortable, Bucky looks up. “Listen, I got to go.” Standing up, he gives a long look around the room before he walks to the door.

“See you later, Bucky, take care, okay?”

“You too, see you tomorrow?”

“No, I'm also taking a break, I'm going over to Pepper's house. She asked me to help her with some of Tony's stuff, a few science projects he kept at home.”

Tony's name is still giving him shivers, a feeling of guilt he can't and most likely won't ever shake. Trying his best to smile, he walks out. If he could switch places with Tony he would, in a heartbeat. He has nothing to live for and Tony had a family, a beautiful loving wife, a little girl. What does he have?

It isn't fair.

He wonders if in one of those realities Tony got to live. He hopes so.

He walks back to his room quietly - it's been an eventful day, and he would like to be alone - but hearing voices out of Steve's room, he falters. The door is halfway closed, so he walks past it with silent steps until he reaches the other side. He doesn't mean to listen, but he hears one sentence and freezes.

“A week's holiday with the kids and grandkids, at a beach? Shame you don't have the body for surfing anymore.” Bucky hears Steve's deep laugh and Sam's chuckle.

“Yeah, it's a family thing, you know? I did it in my younger years, JJ, my eldest, he was dead set on becoming a world famous surfer so I had to learn, now it's Mickey, his eldest that is set on it.”

“JJ?”

“James Joseph.”

“What did JJ become?”

“A sergeant, followed in my footsteps, was hard not to, with me and Peg in the service. Sam-Anthony became an Air Force Captain, Sarah, my youngest, is the only one who decided to become an artist, still my footsteps, just the other way.”

“So, you're leaving tomorrow and will be back, what, next week?”

“Should I go? I mean, Bucky...”

“Yes, he will be fine, besides, it's a family tradition, right? Every year on her birthday?”

“Yes, I made her take a whole week off from work, in the beginning it was just me and her, then came JJ, then Sam-Anthony and then little Sarah and it became tradition. Every year, a week, a beach, just family. We only skipped it when she was ill, you know, the last few years. Then it became sort of a remembrance to her.”

Bucky can't move, silent tears running down his face. A whole life, holidays, every year, happy, together, swimming, and where was he? A lifetime of torture and five seconds of hoping, praying that Steve would change his mind, but he didn't. Why would he? He already got his 80 years of surfing in the sun.

“Do they know about, you know... all of this, what you've done to get to them?”

“Yes, I told them as soon as they were old enough to understand. I've been telling them bedtime stories of me and Bucky and their mom for years. I knew I had to, especially with everything that'd happened. I had to prepare them, I told them everything so they wouldn't lose hope.”

“You told them about Bucky?” Bucky's mouth falls open. He wants to scream, he wants to fall to his knees and cry for relief. If everything Steve did hurt before, it's nothing compared to hearing he was a bedtime story for his kids. Instead of being there, being an uncle, he was just a tale. While he, at the same time, was being ripped apart and tortured. The stuff Hydra did to him doesn't hold the candle, not even close. That was just his mind and body being broken and reformed, this is his very heart and soul.

“You know, they grew up with Captain America and his comics and stories. JJ was always the fondest of Bucky, but I wasn't surprised, you know? He wouldn't go to bed unless I told him a story of the Howling Commandos, of the amazing sniper James Barnes saving the day. For five years every Halloween costume would be Bucky, twice in his army uniform, three times as a Howlie. I had to get someone to make him a navy jacket like the one Bucky would wear, then he would get his toy gun, gel his hair and take his younger brother's and sister's hands and go trick or treating.” 

“Steve...” Sam's voice is quiet, sad.

“I encouraged it. I missed him, it was a way to see him again, you know? To keep him alive. I knew it was still so many years before I would see him again. I would take photos and keep them safe, telling myself I would show Bucky one day, show him that I kept him alive.”

Bucky bites down on his wrist, keeping himself from screaming. Keeping him alive? That's how he kept him alive? He didn't think about saving him? He couldn't rescue him and make him a part of his family, he made him a Halloween costume instead? A fairy tale?

Is this a fucking joke? What did he do in his few years on Earth to deserve this? 70 years of brainwashing and torture, 70 years of bed time stories? Did he do anything right? Is his existence such a shame and waste that this is the only thing he is good for?

Bucky can't listen anymore, he can't take it. He will give his position away if he stays any longer. He needs to go. Without glancing back, he starts walking to his room.

Back inside Steve's room, Sam sits down on the chair opposite Steve.

“Steve, did you at least try to save Bucky, even once?”

“I couldn't. I tried, but the Ancient One intervened every time. Then Peggy got suspicious and it was affecting my relationship with my kids, with her."

“What do you mean it affected your relationship? Did she know? Didn't she try to help?”

“I told her the basics, especially since I told her where we should invest our money, and occasionally I would run my mouth. A new band came out, and told her they would change the world, the Beatles... how they would change rock forever, you know? And she would get this look, then she would walk away, and I would give her some time. Then the Stonewall riots, I went, we had a massive fight, she didn't speak to me for nearly a week.”

“Didn't she agree with it?”

“She did, she just didn't like her husband supporting it so openly. Then I told her, one day they would be free to get married, and no one would stop them. The kids loved the idea, I... well, everything I knew about parenting was from my mom and Bucky, how he raised his sisters and looked after me, so whatever I taught them, I was taught first. I tried to teach them, love the person, regardless of their size, colour, background or beliefs. I thought Tony was arrogant at first, and he became the biggest hero of us all. Natasha was an assassin, she became my confidant. Clint, Fury, everyone came from very different backgrounds, Thor is an alien, you...”

“I'm black.”

“I never saw that, I tried to raise my kids like that.”

“She didn't?”

“She knew what it was like to fight for scraps in a world dominated by men. I told her many times, she would be a force to reckon with, she would be a world changer... She had this idea, I think it was because of her job, that real change happens in the shadows, behind the curtain, the riots and everything in front of the curtain is just some sort of semblance. We could fight about it so fiercely some days.”

“And Bucky, she didn't want to talk about him?”

“She had no problem with it. I told her some, I had nightmares and she figured it out, that he must be alive somehow, from my ramblings. I told her basically what happened, she said she can put her feelers out there, to find him, but she cannot make it her first priority. If her job would change the world, as I said, she thought it should be to change the future, not the past. And when the Ancient One interrupted our holiday once, in Europe, because I knew that's where he would be, Peggy was so furious... Told me to choose, our family, or my past.”

“You chose her,” Sam replies, hoping to sound understanding.

Steve looks up at him, stubborn and fierce. “I chose my family.”

“He was your family first..." Sam mutters. "Anyway, why Europe, and why a holiday?”

“He had a mission there, I read his files, remember? I was hoping... I missed him, Sam, so much, I just wanted a glimpse, to know that he was real. That I didn't imagine it all, that I wasn't crazy.” Steve looks away and down as if he's ashamed. When he opens his mouth to talk, Sam has to strain to hear. “The Ancient One explained that if I try to intervene, to mess with time, it would start to mess back, just like Tony said. And God, Sam, it messed back so bad... I never expected this, it messed with me enough, didn't it? And Bucky...”

“Steve... I don't know what to say. I think we will never completely understand how time and all of this works, you're the first to ever do something like this, who knows when it will even out. Maybe when you and Bucky can finally face each other and be friends again. I don't know, never had to counsel a time traveler before.”

“I thought it would be okay. I told him that, on the platform, I said 'it's going to be okay...' It isn't, I don't know when it will be. I wish I knew.”

“Maybe we just need to give it time.”

Both snort immediately. “Yeah, time.”

“Yeah, the biggest joke of the universe, don't you think?”

Steve just looks away, no answer forthcoming.

Mustering the last of his strength, Bucky stumbles to his room before closing the door. Once inside his room, he makes his way to the boxes in the corner, looking for a specific one. Finding it, he tears it open with one pull. There's one bottle he hid that Sam doesn't know about. With shaking hands he grabs it from the box and unscrews it. Bringing it to his lips, he stops. Can he do this again? Can he really start again? It's not drugs though, so...

Yes.

With a few swallows the bottle is halfway gone and he falls against the bed, his back resting against the frame, the conversation playing back in his mind. What Steve did... He named his son after him, and told him bedtime stories, dressed him up in Bucky's outfit, and lived a life. Went on holidays, and meanwhile...

“What did I do?” Bucky whispers as more tears run down his face. “Please, someone, tell me, what did I do that was so wrong, to get this.”

It feels like a matching set, an ultimate torture. In one reality, at the same time, he was twice tortured and left for dead, a ghost story that shaped the world, and simultaneously a bedtime story that made kids dress as him for Halloween.

“Will I ever get a fucking break?” The room doesn't answer, the bottle doesn't either. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he empties the rest of the bottle. “Is there one reality, out of all these fucking millions of parallel universes, that Bucky Barnes doesn't suffer? One where I get a break?” He throws the empty bottle violently into the trashcan, before shifting in such a way that he's lying on the floor. His left hand reaches up to bed and pulls the Wakandan blanket down over his torso. His shoulders shake as he cries.

“How come Steve creates several timelines and gets to be happy, while I just get to die...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another hard one, not because I struggled but because of the emotional angst I put Bucky through. I think Steve did try to do some good. I refuse to believe that he just sat back, I can’t, if I do, I would hate him forever. This is my take on it. I also think that instead of fairytales, it would be the Howlies that would become the bedtime stories. Steve would have loved to keep Bucky alive somehow.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man starts blatantly staring at Bucky. “You... you're...”  
> “Do I know you?” Bucky asks with confusion, before Wanda grabs his hand. He looks at her before looking back at the man, focuses on his looks, and then freezes. This man... his eyes... _her_ hair, _his_ eyes.  
> Oh God... he knew Steve is leaving today, he never for one minute thought about how he would leave.

Bucky's phone beeps a couple times as he slowly wakes up. His body is stiff from laying on the floor, his eyes puffy and sore from crying into the late hours of the night. His phone buzzes again and he looks at it. One missed call from Shuri, a text just came in.

Shuri

_Almost done, Brother? I have to attend a function next week and want a date._

He tries to keep another sob from escaping him. At least someone gives a shit about him. Nothing is stopping him from going, he finished what he told her would do, Bruce is taking a break, Steve is going on a long holiday, what is left here for him? Does he have to stay? For who? Wanda comes to mind, but at this point he might as well take her with him, help her recover too. She misses her brother and Vision. She needs to get away just as much as he does.

He quickly types back.

**Almost done.**

Getting up slowly, he inhales the scent of the Wakandan blanket, missing the place fiercely. He can't imagine telling Shuri about this, about the conversation he overheard last night, but he will, somehow, and she will know how to help him.

First things first, a long shower, some food and then he can go outside with Wanda, ignore Steve, pretend he isn’t leaving today.

He can do it.

He will do it.

An hour later Bucky is outside, Wanda next to him. 

“You know, I can just blast through this with my mind...” Wanda jokes and raises her hands that starts to glow red, pointing it at the perimeter.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “True, and I can just bust in and break everything with my arm, but I don't. Sometimes subtle goes a long way.”

“That's what Natasha used to say... Sorry.”

“Why apologise?”

“I know you miss her, and trained her, it's just...”

Bucky walks closer till he's standing in front of her. “Listen, do not apologise for missing her, for learning from her, for things she taught you or for talking about her. She was fierce, she was tenacious and so, so strong. If she thought you worthy of teaching, you take that with pride, okay?”

Smiling sadly, she nods before her eyes catch something down the road. “Who's that?” she asks, and Bucky turns around to see a family car. If Bucky had to guess it looks like a Volvo V90 or something similar. The car comes to a stop close to the gate.

Wanda and Bucky share a look before going that way. A man steps out, he's in his late sixties, dark brown hair with grey at his sides, wearing jeans and a blue button down. There are two teenagers in the car. The man starts blatantly staring at Bucky. “You... you're...”

“Do I know you?” Bucky asks with confusion, before Wanda grabs his hand. He looks at her before looking back at the man, focuses on his looks, and then freezes. This man... his eyes... _her_ hair, _his_ eyes.

Oh God... he knew Steve is leaving today, he never for one minute thought about how he would leave.

“Dad, what's going on? Where's great-grandpa?” one of the teenagers asks, rolling down the window.

Bucky stands still, his face fixed, his fingers clutching Wanda's hand. It's a miracle he hasn’t broken it.

The man looks at Bucky. “Hi, I’m JJ.”

Wanda is the first to step closer. “Hi, I'm...”

“Wanda... Dad could never stop talking about you once we were old enough; you, Natasha, Sergeant Barnes...” he smiles, trying to sound casual, but he can’t. He keeps glancing back at Bucky, who is still frozen in place.

“You're here for Steve?” Wanda asks, trying to divert the attention away from Bucky. 

“Uh, yeah, we're going on a short holiday, a week, we have a summer house near San Jose...”

“That's nice. So... Do you want to come in...?” 

“Can we?”

“Sure, I don't see why not. We will open the gate, you can just drive all the way down, and we will follow behind.”

JJ looks at Bucky, who is still not saying anything. “Yeah... okay... thanks...” JJ turns around to get back into the car, where one of the children hangs out the window, blonde hair shining in the light. The boy is about fifteen, but Bucky can only see young Steve.

“Grandpa!” the kid yells and everyone turns to the compound to see Sam and Steve walking down the road, Sam carrying two bags. 

Bucky is trying so hard to keep it together, to keep from breaking down in front of everyone. He knows from the story he overheard that this man, who is now older than him, used to worship him as a kid, dressed up as him... And now he's standing in front of him, with awe in blue eyes that are exactly like Steve's, and his grandson looking exactly like the little Stevie from Brooklyn. He can't even greet him, introduce himself. He doesn't move as Steve and Sam walk close to the gate, Wanda opening it, so they can go through.

“Hi, Dad.”

“JJ, you've already packed.”

“Yeah, thought we'd pick you up then go straight to the airport, save some time.”

Bucky watches numbly as the grandkids jump out, hugging Steve, taking the bags from Sam and loading them in the car. They're talking animatedly and with obvious joy. Steve is only listening with half an ear, his attention on Bucky, trying to get a read on him. Bucky keeps staring over Steve's shoulder, refusing to make eye contact.

Once everything is loaded Steve walks over. “Buck?”

Taking a breath, he locks eyes with Steve. This man... this fucking man... “Do all of them have your eyes?” Steve is taken aback by the question. He wants to say something, he wants to talk to Bucky, but doesn't know what to say. What could he possibly say to make things better? “Don't worry about it, go enjoy your holiday, Steve.”

“Bucky... Will you be okay?”

“Peachy.” Without saying anything else, Bucky turns around and walks back to the compound. Wanda gives Steve a hard look, then smiles at the kids, waves them off and catches up to Bucky. 

“Sam...” Steve doesn't even know what he wants to ask.

“Yeah, I will look after him.”

“I should stay...”

“No, nothing you can do anyway. Go, be with your family.”

Steve turns to look at the compound Bucky's just disappeared into, before nodding at Sam and getting into the car.

Bucky's feet take him to his room, Wanda walking next to him. Bursting in, he pulls at his hair.

“You can scream if you want, I can create a bubble around us, no one will hear you.”

With tears running down his face he turns around to Wanda. “What?” 

She lifts her hands and weaves them in a mesmerizing pattern, the air rippling slightly. She smiles. “It's like a sound proof room, so if you want to scream or yell or whatever, go for it, no one will hear you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Bucky inhales deeply and lets out an anguished scream before falling to his knees. Wanda closes her eyes and turns around, giving him some privacy. When he finally gets his breathing under control, he looks at her. “Wanda?”

Turning around, she sees him sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. He looks better, but still so, so sad. “Hey.”

“Come, sit with me, please.” Wanda moves closer to the bed and sits down next to him. “You can get into my mind, right? Can't you take this away?”

“I wish, I would take away the pain if I could, but it is what it is, Bucky... You feel tremendous grief, I recognize it because I've had it for so long. When Pietro died it felt like someone ripped a hole straight through my chest and crushed my heart. He was the only person who ever _knew_ me, who understood me, we went through so much together, the experimentation, the pain, the heartache of losing our home, of becoming part of this horrible world of fighting... He took a dozen or more bullets to right some of the wrongs that we helped create. It does get better, it just takes time, Bucky. You haven’t felt anything good for more than 70 years, it would make sense for you to struggle now, and everything keeps just heaping itself on top of each other. I know you are happy for him, I know that you love him so much that you stepped aside, but I also know you will get better and we will help you with that.”

“You miss him very much, don't you?”

“Yes, every day. Vision too... You know, I keep thinking what Pietro would have said about him, how he would've teased me, but he would've been so happy for me. I see it sometimes in my dreams.”

“I miss him, so much...” Bucky whispers.

“He is still here, not the same man, but alive, with a beating heart. You can still talk to him, tell him about your life. One day you won't have that luxury anymore.”

Nodding, Bucky leans back against the bed, hiding his face in his arms. Wanda sits there with him for quite a while. Around dinner time Bucky shifts and stands up, then holds his hand out. “Thanks for this, I really appreciate it.”

“You're welcome. Let's go get dinner.”

“You go, I'm not hungry. I’m going to take a walk around the compound and then get in bed, I’m exhausted. Besides, I’m thinking of going to Wakanda for a few days, Shuri keeps asking me to come and visit and this might be a good time to get away for a bit. You can come with if you'd like?” 

“Not this time, soon though. I would love to go back, but I think this time it should just be you. You should go as soon as you can, it will be good for you. Get some rest, okay?”

“I will.” Bucky smiles, trying to reassure her. He walks out with her then makes his way outside.

Staring out over the compound, he can’t help but feel empty. He takes out his phone and decides to try and call Cody again, and notices a message. He looks at the screen - it’s from Cody.

Cody

_J, listen man, you’re fine, but the Avengers… Grandpa… Captain America… Dude! Sorry, that is just way too much baggage._

Bucky can’t help but stare at the screen as his eyes fill with tears. Again… Captain freaking America… Regardless of the wearer, Bucky once again falls in the shadow of the great suit. Putting the phone away, he looks around, trying to compose himself.

The compound is mostly dark, the lights still on only in the residential parts. This is his new home now. He can admit that he feels safer here, that he's getting closer to the people inside, Wanda and Sam especially. He's already getting to know Hope and Scott too, they always find time to talk with him when they are here. Even Bruce...

There's just this overwhelming pain of trying to find himself. The constant struggle. And now this, Cody…

It's that machine. That damn machine caused all of this.

Rage is starting to force his way into his heart, his blood, his mind. Steve went back and saw _her_ , he went back for the stones, he went back to save everyone, he went back and created new timelines, alternate realities... and in every single one Steve gets to live while Bucky gets to die, tortured, turned into a weapon, into dust, into the person who loses the only good thing in his life over and over again. How many realities are there that Bucky Barnes watches Steve go back to _her_? How many excruciating five second waits where Bucky hopes and prays that Steve would stay, that he would _stay with him_? How many Buckys are out there that love Steve with every fibre and cell in his body but the feeling stays unrequited?

How many times... Steve lives and Bucky...

Steve gets a family and Bucky...

He lives, too, but it's an empty life, filled with fighting and death. Why did Steve even save him, just to walk away? He should've killed him on the helicarrier. Bucky should've stayed dead, died in those experiments, died in that fall...

The fall...

If he'd never survived that fall, never survived that first round of experiments, he would've never become this monster, he would've never killed so many people, and who knows...

Jumping up he quickly glances around, breathes deeply, wipes his hands on his thighs and takes off. Running as fast as he can, he makes his way to the basement. The machine is just standing there, mocking him. Smirking at him, telling him what he missed out on, how he failed. How easy it was to take everything from him, the way Hydra never could.

He should destroy it, he should use his arm and break it into thousands of pieces, just like his mind, just like his heart.

Reaching out he grabs the controls and stops.

If Steve can go back, why can't he?

If Steve was allowed to create a new timeline, why can't he?

There's two changes he would make, two little changes, and then come back. Looking up, he sees the case where the suits are kept. His hand lets go of the controls, his feet carrying him without any conscious thought. The suits are there, the wristbands, the particles, the machine... No one needs to know. If it takes five seconds, no one will know. It will take him, what, ten minutes to get ready, five seconds to go, he can be back in his room in twenty minutes and no one will ever know. Except for those two tiny changes, but that's okay.

Looking back at the basement door he opens the wardrobe, takes out two suits and gets ready.

Ten minutes later there's a flash and Bucky disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really didn’t plan to bring the kids in, but then again, I love angst, so yeah, let’s bring in the kid who worshipped Bucky.  
> This will bring the story to the very idea that birthed it, the whole reason for writing this. Next couple chapters will be even angstier, I can tell you that.  
> beta's note: A big shoutout to the commenter stjohn27 for spotting a continuity error that we _haven't_ in the ~10 times we've looked it over... Thank you, dear! (the kids' and grandkids' ages have been fixed)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We need to switch this back on.”
> 
> Everyone turns back to the machine as Hope starts to push some buttons. “Okay, it’s powering on.”
> 
> Lights start coming on, and then there’s a flash and a figure lies on the floor, covered in a suit.
> 
> “Bucky!” Sam yells as he crouches down on the floor, pressing the mask release. The mask slides back and Sam jumps back, his face white with shock.

* * *

* * *

Sam can't sleep. He's been up for the past several hours, he can't force himself to relax. The entire day is still playing in his mind, the surprise of seeing Bucky and Wanda outside, talking to Steve's son.

_Steve's step had faltered, causing Sam to stop._

_“Steve, what's up?”_

_“It's Bucky, I didn't know he was going to be outside today?”_

_“So?”_

_“JJ is picking me up, I was hoping to meet them at the gate, but it looks like I was too late.” Steve looks at the gate and Sam follows. There is a car and a grown man talking to Bucky and Wanda._

_“That's your son?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“The one who worshipped Bucky?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Oh crap. Well, let's get going.”_

_“Sam, am I doing the right thing? I haven’t even talked to him, I tried but he wasn’t in his room, he usually gets up between six and seven and I went to his room two times...”_

_“It's too late now, you both need to get some distance. Go clear your head, come back and we can take it from there.”_

_Together they start to walk to the gate. They could hear Wanda speaking to the man, see Bucky standing still, his hands rigidly at his sides, Wanda clutching one of them comfortingly._

Rolling to his other side, he pulls on the bedsheets. Bucky's face is still haunting him. He just _watched_ Steve talk to his kid, talk to the grandchildren, a thousand-yard stare, physically close to the people but not seeing them. Then he just walked away, practically ignoring Steve's attempts to smoothe things over. Sam hasn’t seen him for the rest of the day - he tried to, but figured Bucky didn't want to be found for a while. Besides, Wanda was with him, she will make sure he's okay. He talked to her at dinner, she was with Bucky the whole afternoon, then he went to check the perimeter. He's even planning on going to visit Shuri in the next couple days. That's good, right?

Still...

Bucky is scared, and he's like a wild animal at times. Maybe time to lick his wounds in the only home he's known in this century it is exactly what he needs. Time to get away and reflect.

But...

A few days ago he was suicidal and once again ripped from a comfort zone, maybe not the most positive one, but it was still his safe space. Sam knows that Bucky hasn't been in contact with Cody since that night, and even if they weren't a couple in a traditional sense, they still were together in some capacity.

 _"I'd make sure I never got off that table in Azzano, or survived that fall. Steve was already the hero by that time, he already had_ her _, my job was done."_ That's what Bucky had said that night. He would've gone back and killed himself, there was no other way to say it. How else was he going to make sure he didn't survive the fall, or get off the table..? By never going to war in the first place? He wouldn't do that, he thinks his job was to make sure Steve got to the front lines. 

Sitting up, he takes a deep breath. He's right to be worried. Better safe than sorry.

Throwing the covers off, he gets up, dresses quickly and makes his way to Bucky's room. Everyone is still sleeping, and he tries to keep quiet as much as possible. Stopping in front of the door, he knocks quietly.

"Hey, Barnes..."

No answer.

"Rapunzel..."

Still no answer. Frowning, Sam sighs. It's not like Bucky not to answer, his training won't allow him to miss even the quietest sound. Raising his hand, he knocks again.

"Bucky?"

Looking around, he opens the door.

"It's me, man, don't shoot..."

Sam steps into a dark room.

"Switching on the lights... Now."

The room floods with light and Sam stares at the bed.

"Oh fuck."

It is empty, perfectly made, not a corner out of place. His beloved Wakandan blanket is lying half on the floor, half on the bed. Walking to the bathroom, he looks around there - empty, everything in its place. Turning around, he looks at the desk, until his eyes catch the-

"Oh, no... Nonono..." Crouching down he picks up the empty bottle from the trash. “Dammit, Barnes!” Sam closes his eyes and sits on the bed.

“Where... How... the hell... dammit.” Looking around the room, he takes a breath. “Okay... first things first. He relapsed... probably... maybe... okay, where is he? Distance... outside... security tapes. Yeah, security tapes. Okay... don't panic.”

Putting the bottle back, he quickly leaves and makes his way to the security room. It's empty - they haven't set up night shifts yet, they might later, but Bruce mentioned something about downloading FRIDAY again. Until then, they just do everything themselves.

Sitting down, he looks at the screens, logging into the systems.

“Okay, Wanda left you around seven, you went outside... sitting outside... what the... was that an ant nest? Why are you running... the basement... what is in the... oh _crap_.” Sam watches Bucky run towards the basement, he watches him reach out to the control, he can see the anger, the rage, and then... he freezes. Bucky looks at the wardrobe, then back again.

“Noooononooo... you didn't...”

_"I'd make sure I never got off that table in Azzano, or survived that fall. Steve was already the hero by that time, he already had her, my job was done."_

“Please Barnes, tell me you didn't do anything stupid.”

He continues to watch as Bucky looks back at the door, then walks over to the cases and starts to take off his jacket and pulls out a suit.

“Dammit!”

Sam can only watch with helplessness as Bucky pulls the suit on and then starts the machine. Stands on the platform and then with a flash of light he's gone.

“Oh fuck it, fuck it... fuuck...”

Wait...

Five seconds, right?

With his eyes glued to the screen, he looks to the time.

“Come on... come... on...”

Sam closes his eyes and wipes his hands across his face before lowering his head and resting it on his arms, utterly despaired.

Unable to tell how long he sat there, he takes a breath and stands up. He has to tell the others, he needs Bruce, he needs to tell him, together they may figure out a way to figure out what happened and how to get Bucky back. Making his way to the lab, he texts everyone to meet him there, ASAP.

Wanda is there first, with Hope and Scott following behind. It's just the four of them for now. 

“What's going on?” Scott asks, unable to hide the worry.

“Where's Bucky?” Wanda is the first to notice something going on, her worry tangible.

Sam looks at her. “He's gone,” he answers, looking at their reactions.

“Gone?” Wanda repeats before taking a step closer. “What do you mean, gone?”

“At 23:30 last night Bucky went to the basement with what looks like an initial plan to destroy the machine, before he decided on using it instead. He hasn't returned yet.” Wanda closes her eyes as they fill with tears.

“But how?” Hope inquires, looking shocked.

“Yeah, it's supposed to take five seconds, isn't it?” Scott adds.

“Supposedly, but I checked, the five seconds came and went, nothing. I was hoping that one of you could be able to help us. Bruce is not back yet, and right now, Hope, you and Scott are our best chance, knowing the most about this, about the quantum realm, about all of this.”

Hope looks at everyone before turning back. “The realm, maybe, but the machine? I'm just beginning to understand it, it is not like the one we used to go and get my mom or help Ava.”

“But you've spent the most time with this technology, next to Bruce. I have no idea who to ask, Hope, I just know we need to find Bucky.”

Sam and Hope share a look before she straightens up. “Okay... okay. Who is manning the machine while he went?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Who is making sure the machine stays on, that everything goes smoothly? I mean, is the machine even still on?”

“I don't know. “

“Let's go,” Hope orders and starts to run down to the basement, the rest on her heels.

Once inside the basement, they look to the machine.

“It's off,” Hope exclaims.

Wanda's eyes catch the wardrobe with the suits and she just keeps staring. “Guys...”

“We should turn it on, maybe it will help?” Scott is saying as they all turn to him.

Wanda grabs Sam's hand. “There's more.”

“Wanda, what's going on?”

“There's two suits missing.”

“What?!” She's right. “How did I miss that?” Sam whispers. What else did he miss?

“Why would he take two?” Hope asks before turning back to the controls.

“One way to find out,” Scott replies as he steps closer. “We need to switch this back on.”

Everyone turns back to the machine as Hope starts to push some buttons. “Okay, it's powering on.”

Lights start coming on, and then there's a flash and a figure lies on the floor, covered in a suit.

"Bucky!" Sam yells as he crouches down on the floor, pressing the mask release. The mask slides back and Sam jumps back, his face white with shock. “Bucky? Is that you?”

The man removes the helmet with a groan, still half sitting, half lying on the floor. The moment the helmet is off, Wanda yells and starts crying. "Pietro?!" Pushing Sam aside she practically falls down on top of her brother, enveloping him in a hug. Both are crying loudly.The rest watch on with surprise and wonder as the two cling to each other.

“Uhm... Wanda, who is this?” Scott finally breaks.

Wanda slowly lets go a little, but keeps a hand on him like she's afraid he'll disappear at any moment. "Pietro Maxinoff. My twin brother.”

"I didn't know you had one," Hope whispers.

"He died, in that whole Sokovia incident," Sam explains as he watches the two hugging again.

“How did you know?” Scott asks, not looking away from the reunion.

“Steve told me, at that time I was trying to locate Bucky and the Avengers were fighting the whole Ultron thing." Looking back at the Pietro, he sighs. "So how did you get here, or are we correct to assume Bucky had something to do with it?"

"Pietro, how _did_ you get here?" Wanda seems to have come to her senses a bit.

"The man saved me, with the metal arm. Bucky. Said I must trust him," Pietro explains.

Wanda looks at the others before she returns his gaze. "What did he tell you?"

"It's a bit of a long story."

"Tell us, please?" Scott asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Yes, and is Bucky following you?" Sam wants to know, still worrying. The machine is on, yet he still hasn't returned. It's been hours. What's taking so long?

"No... He said he still has something to do, then he will come back. He sent me along, told me I would be surprised. I must say this _is_ a huge surprise. Who are you guys?”

“Okay, I think we should all take a moment, get some coffee, and hear what you have to say, Pietro.”

It takes about ten minutes for everyone to get back upstairs and settle in the common room. Pietro has taken off the suit and is wearing a familiar tracksuit. Wanda keeps staring at it. "You wore that at the battle against Ultron."

"Yeah, that's where he found me, saved my life actually."

"Pietro, I saw you die, those bullets, you ran in front of it. You saved Clint."

"I did it, but the man, he spoke our language, he says 'wear this underneath your shirt, and when you're hit, stay down, no matter what'. He wouldn't explain. I ask why I must trust him... he says, 'Wanda's happiness depends on it, I must do it for her'. I ask him how he knows Wanda, he says she's very good friend, he wants her to be happy. I said prove it, he said as children, I would tell her stories, how she is a fire dragon, and I was an ice dragon, and we would fly across the world, and we would be free.”

Hearing it, Wanda bursts out laughing, pulling him into another hug, tears still streaming down her face. She told Bucky the story when he told her how he and Steve would play pretend with Becca. It was something only they could've known... And that just saved her brother's life. Pietro's holding her close, just as unable to let go as she is. "I saw you fall, you didn't get up. Clint checked for a pulse, they put you with the rest of the bo... bodies...” Wanda's voice breaks at the last word.

Pietro squeezes her hand. "I was knocked out. I woke up after the fight was over. Your friend was busy removing the bullets and then told me everything. Has it been years, really, years?" Wanda nods, unable to answer.

“What about your pulse, the blood...” Sam asks, still trying to understand.

“The thing he gave me stopped most bullets, they went in but not very deep... It hurt like hell. I was out, in shock, pain was unbearable. My heart slowed down, stopped the blood loss, healing me.”

“They were always fascinated by his metabolism back at the science lab, they thought his powers affect his whole body. He would heal faster, or slower, depending on the context. Just like he could move faster or slower,” Wanda explains and then turns back to her brother. “Your pulse was slowed down?”

“Yeah, I'm mostly healed now.”

It's quiet for a few minutes, everyone just digesting the story. Sam is confused as hell, but it doesn't stop him from turning back to Pietro. "Then he, what, just gave you the suit and sent you here?"

"Yes, he said Wanda would be happy to see me, that 'I was gone long enough.'"

"And he said he still has something to do before he can come back?" Hope asks, speaking up for the first time since Pietro appeared.

Nodding again, Pietro goes on. "Yes, he said he has to go back and do what he originally planned, that I wasn't part of the original set-up until after he made up his mind. He said something strange to be honest."

"Something stranger than time travel?" Scott adds with a smile.

"What did he say?" Sam asks, a strange feeling settling in his stomach.

"He said 'if this works, at least someone should be happy.'" Sam closes his eyes. This isn't good.

Hope looks back at Pietro. “Do you have any idea who he meant?”

Pietro shakes his head. “He didn't say, but he looked sad.”

“Okay, we need to think of this rationally, who was he close to in the 40's?” Hope asks as she tries to figure this out.

“His family? Steve?” Scott tries.

“Maybe he went to say goodbye, or maybe he went to live out his life there?” Wanda adds, looking at Sam. They both knew how sad, how broken Bucky was.

“No...” That's the problem, they're approaching this wrong, but Sam knows... “No, we shouldn't think about it rationally. Bucky is not in a good place right now. He's struggling.”

“We know, we all saw it, we all know, Sam. He is so lost and trying so hard,” Hope says, looking at Sam with sad eyes.

“You did?”

Everyone nods, then Scott explains, “Yeah, I mean, we saw the way he looked at Steve, it wasn't hard to see that it shook him to the core... I mean, back in Germany, the way they would look at each other, I wasn't going to say anything... but we knew, we all knew.”

“Yeah, it just wasn't our place to say anything,” Hope is adding, and Sam can only sigh. It was so clear, everybody freaking saw it, except Steve. And what did his blindness cost them now?

“Sam, do you know what he is planning?” Wanda asks, stepping closer to Sam.

“I think I do.”

“Do you mind sharing with the rest of us?” a deep voice speaks up behind them. Everyone jumps up to look at the man, the golden ring behind him slowly disappearing, the long red cape flowing without any wind.

“Dr. Strange?” Sam asks.

“Yes, now please, share with the rest of the class, what is Sergeant Barnes planning?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we know what he is planning though, don’t we?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam sighs.  
> "To him that is salvation. he thinks he'es saving himself the guilt of what he did, saving the world from what he was made to do for years and years. To him, dying is much better than being what he became. He isn't thinking rationally. To him it makes perfect sense."

They stare at Strange with shock. Sam is the first to recover. “Strange, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I noticed a shift in the timeline, so I came to investigate. What's going on, and how is the young gentleman that died several years ago _here_?”

"Bucky took a few particles and went back, he saved Pietro the day he was supposed to die. Now he's apparently trying to save someone else."

Strange glances at Pietro, calculation visible on his face. Hope takes a step closer. "Because of what Bucky did saving Pietro, did he create a new time line like Steve did when he went back?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back at them. "No. Bucky altered this one. The change wasn't so drastic, and since the boy died that day, it doesn't influence any other past events and he actually made no significant change."

“Good, cause he's staying, get that?” Wanda states, standing in front of her brother, red tendrils already at her hands.

Smiling, Strange holds up his hands. “I wasn't going to take him back, Miss Maximoff, he can stay. It's actually for the better.”

"What about Bucky?” Sam asks, getting all serious.

"You said you know what he's planning?"

"I think I know."

“You _think_?”

"What you need to know is that he isn't in a great place right now."

"He's depressed and hurt, you don't need to be a magician to see it. What do you think he wants?”

"A couple nights ago he opened up to me, now I'm not going to say what he shared except this one part," Sam stops talking, trying to find a way to say it.

"Sam?" Wanda asks, worry in her eyes.

"I don't think he is going to save anyone, at least not in the way we think. The opposite, actually. I think he thinks he is beyond saving."

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Hope asks, her face a little pale.

"He said that if he ever went back in time, he'd make sure of one thing, that he either doesn't make it off the table in Azzano or survive the fall from the train. He thinks his only duty was to make sure Steve got to the front lines, met Peggy and became the hero, everything else was just extra. His words, not mine."

Gasping Wanda sits back down, Hope following. Scott looks at Sam. "Sam, what are you trying to say?"

"I think he's going to try and kill himself."

“But he said 'save someone', I remember that!" Pietro replies frantically.

Sam sighs. "To him that is salvation. He thinks he's saving himself the guilt of what he did, saving the world from what he was made to do for years and years. To him, dying is much better than being what he became. He isn't thinking rationally. To him it makes perfect sense."

"But isn't that screwing up the time lines?" Hope asks, trying to make sense of it all.

"It would create another time line. He probably thinks he can be free in at least one timeline, if not in this one."

"We have to find him and stop him," Strange states, his voice heavy with tension. They all turn to him.

"Why? Doesn't he deserve peace in one timeline at least?" Wanda asks. Tears run down her face. She can't find it in her to be angry at him, not when he just gave her her brother back.

Shaking his head, Strange is adamant, “No. He isn't. He doesn't have the time stone to do it, he is altering this timeline, and this is a huge change, it could alter everything for the worse. It could potentially undo everything for the past several decades. He's effectively going to erase his very existence and it will be catastrophic. He was quite vital for the world, you see, even if he doesn't believe it. Hydra was right to say he's shaped the century.”

The room is utterly quiet until Wanda's choked words break the silence, “Oh God... Oh God, we have to stop him.”

“Stay here, I'll be back.” Before anyone can say anything Strange swings his arms, and then he's gone.

With nothing to do but to wait, they each take a chair and get some breakfast that they don't really eat. It's already close to 4 in the morning, but no one even thinks about going back to sleep. Wanda and Scott go to get Pietro a room and some clothes that aren't bloody and dirty - Scott's the closest to Pietro's size. Hope is on her laptop, looking at research, trying to figure out what to do. Sam is sitting at a table, numb, wondering if he should tell Steve. Steve would want to know.

Sam’s phone buzzes, a new text appearing on the screen. It's as if Steve knows something's going on.

Steve

_Sorry, know it's early, can you tell Bucky I'm going to call him tomorrow? JJ can't stop talking about meeting him, I said I will try to call so he can say hi. JJ told the rest and all of them are excited about it. Do you think maybe Bucky'd like to talk to them?_

Sam puts the phone down and sighs loudly. He really can't deal with this right now. He also knows he has to reply. But how? 'Sorry, no can do, he's in the past, doing what you couldn't or didn't want to do?'

“Shit, Barnes...” Picking up his phone, he looks at the message again. “Screw this.” He puts his phone down again gets up to get another cup of coffee.

Strange comes back just before 8, calling them to the briefing room. Sam is the last to go in, everyone already sitting around the table. He looks at Pietro. The boy is so young, and now his twin sister is a couple years - and a couple of personal tragedies - older than him. He knows their story from Steve, and now he finds himself feeling protective about these kids. 

Sitting down, he looks at Strange. “Okay, what are we going to do?”

Looking at all of them, Strange turns to Sam. “You were right, he's going to kill himself in '45."

"Where is he now?"

"Right now, he's following the group of men that are dragging his younger version through the snow to the bunker they operated on him in. He's been there for two days now, he visited his old teammates' camp last night before making his way to the spot he landed when he fell."

Sam tries to imagine what it must have been like, to see his teammates, still young and full of life. Sitting around a fire, Steve still untainted by all of the tragedies that came later. Not to mention watching himself fall down the ravine, watching himself lying on the ground, dying, his arm shredded off...

"He watched himself fall from the train?" Wanda asks in shock. Strange just nods in response.

"Oh God, that must have been horrible," Hope murmurs.

"What are we going to do? How many of us need to go through the quantum realm?"

"None. I will open a portal, but it will not be a big one, you'll need to use Scott's shrinking technology. The smaller it is, the longer I can keep it open, and I will need to keep it open the whole time you're there to make sure everything goes according to plan. I'm thinking that you should go, Sam, with your wings you can fly through. You'll need to make him small, pick him up and fly back. That's assuming he'll actually listen to what you have to say."

"I can go with my suit," Hope suggests.

Strange is looking at her as if he's considering it. "Will you be able to use force if he doesn't want to come back?"

"Yes."

“She can, I've seen her, she's used it on me, and I'm dating her,” Scott adds with a smile, earning a few short bursts of laughter that lighten the mood.

"No, I will go. If you're okay with it, Doc, maybe Hope can be my backup? I think I have a better chance of getting through to him," Sam replies, getting serious again.

“Yeah, sure. I'll be on standby.”

"Okay, one more thing. Sam, because of the comm link and the open portal we will be able to hear and see what you do. We have to make sure he comes back without completing his mission," Strange explains, his tone serious. Wanda's visibly not sure what to make of it. She can't stop thinking that this is not something that Bucky would want anybody to see, much less have on record forever. 

Strange looks around the table. "Okay, Sam, Hope, suit up. I'll be opening the portal in the lab, we have space and equipment there. You have ten minutes."

Sam and Hope nod then jump up, going to get ready. Scott and Wanda get up as well. "We'll set up the comm links and the screens."

“Thank you.” Strange watches them leave, then taking a breath, makes his way to the lab. They'd better succeed. He doesn't tell the others that he took a brief look at the possible outcomes or that few of them are good.

Ten minutes later everyone's in the lab, all tense. The screens are on, the comm links ready. Sam walks in first and notices the looks on the others faces. If this fails...

_Yeah, no pressure, Wilson._

The palpable tension gets broken by a cellphone ringing. Sam looks down to his phone. Steve. Of course. He never did reply. He picks up, the others listening to the conversation in disbelief.

“Steve, listen, I can't talk right now. Bucky? Yeah, I missed him this morning, he and Wanda went into town, she said something about shopping. They will be back later, I'll call you. Yeah... listen, I got to go, I'll talk to you later.” Sam hangs up and turns to the others. “Sorry about that.”

“Let's get started,” Strange replies.

"Okay, so I go small, go through, tell Barnes it's a wasted trip and make _him_ small, then bring him back. Why fly though?" Sam asks, going through the details of the mission.

Strange looks at Sam. "Because the portal will be high up, in front of a light bulb in fact. I have to make sure no one sees it, since I'll be leaving it open. The light from the bulb will hide the portal and us."

"Of course it will. Okay, let's do this."

"You know how the belt works?"

"Yes, Hope explained it to me."

"Twice," Hope adds with a smile.

Rolling his eyes, Sam pulls down his goggles. “I'm ready.”

Strange starts to circle his arms and a golden ring appears next to him. The portal opens and wherever it leads, it's somewhere dark. "Sam, go," Strange orders.

Sam presses a button and shrinks down, then takes a moment to get used to suddenly being small. Then he takes a breath and flies through. Everyone turns to the screen to watch, only Strange keeping watch on the portal. They can see that the place looks industrial and there are lights hanging from the ceiling, casting an eerie glow.

It looks like Sam is standing behind a row of shelves. Through the openings they can see a bunch of people around what looks like a crude operating table. Someone is screaming loudly, horribly loudly, some distance away, but it's getting closer. Sam's camera however is focused on something – someone – in front of him. The muscular silhouette is familiar, messy long hair falling down his shoulders. 

Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that for the past few chapters there was no Bucky per se, but it will change with the following chapter, and then you all might just hate me....  
> With only a few chapters to go, I can promise you, it will get worse before it gets better.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You need to know, no one ever told you, so I will. You. Did. Good. You did so good. You will love him in every universe and every timeline, a hundred years from now or a thousand. He will save the world, twice, he will save the universe, he will save you, in every reality... But not this one, this time I will, this one is new, I will make sure you're saved from unbelievable pain and torture, from losing your mind and heart..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone.  
> Please please be warned.  
> This is graphic, upsetting and may be a potential trigger. Please take care and precautions.  
> There is a potential trigger for graphic depiction of violence and suicidal ideation / suicide attempt.

* * *

* * *

The portal opens and Sam is flying through, looking around before he lands on the high shelf a few feet behind Bucky's unmoving silhouette. Turning around, Sam looks back at the portal and notices it's practically invisible, so he diverts his attention to Bucky. 

He's slowly walking closer, when a door on the opposite side of the room opens and two men come in, carrying someone between them. He sees how they put him on the table, blood dripping in big sluggish drops to the floor. They're saying something in a language he doesn't understand, but he knows they must be discussing the man on the table. 

A younger Bucky. 

Sam can tell his arm is mutilated and that's the source of the all the blood. He can also make out the shreds of the jacket, the navy-blue jacket that Bucky was famous for, the one the museum has a perfect replica of. 

Sam can't seem to stop himself as his feet carry him closer. They are cutting off the jacket, followed by his shirt. One of the doctors moves away and Sam can only stare. 

So _young_. 

Bucky is so young, history books give his age and photos, but it doesn't come close to seeing the real thing. To see this kid on a table, stripped of his clothes, his skin pale from the cold and blood loss, dark hair matted to his scalp, eyebrows wet with frost, his lips dark red with a blue tinge... The shiny tear tracks as he's crying for relief from the excruciating pain... 

He watches with morbid fascination as the young Bucky tries to get away, lifting his remaining arm and head, then seeing his mangled flesh and yelling in utter despair. "No... help... Ste... vieeeee..." The cries are soft, his throat raw from screaming as he fell. Soft, and even more heart-breaking because of it. Sam can only watch as they tie him to the table and shove a piece of cloth in his mouth to keep the noise down. Then he hears it. 

The unmistakable sound of a chainsaw. 

"Oh God," he whispers, loudly enough that he knows the others hear him, but he doesn't care. 

"You can make yourself big again if you'd like." Bucky's voice is quiet, but hard, devoid of emotion. Sam holds his breath, staring as Bucky takes a breath and slowly turns around. He hears the gasps in his ear as they see his expression. Bucky looks broken, his eyes bloodshot and puffy - he must've been crying for a good while now - but right now his eyes are dry, hard and focused. 

Jumping off the shelf, Sam presses a button that makes himself big again. Bucky looks unfazed, so Sam takes a step closer and can't resist asking. "How did you know?" 

"Because you're smarter than you get credit for." 

"What are you doing, Bucky?" 

"I'm... I think I'm saving myself. Not that I deserve any saving, but I need to know." 

"Know what?" 

"That there is at least one reality, one timeline where I don't, where I don't..." Unable to finish the rest of he looks away. Sam knows though. Where Bucky doesn't become the Winter Soldier, where he doesn't lose Steve to the past.

"Well, if it's saving yourself you're after, this does not sound like it." Turning to the table, they can hear muffled screams and a chainsaw sawing what can only be Bucky's arm. 

A ghost of a smile appears on Bucky's face. "This is nothing. You should hear the time I was electrocuted for two hours straight, or when they thought it would be cool to see how many organs they can remove before I pass out. Strange, seeing someone holding your kidney in front of your face. Sorry," he adds as an afterthought, seeing the look on Sam's face as he's trying hard not to gag. 

"What are they doing in there?" Sam asks softly.

"They're sawing off my arm. It was a mess, it caught on some rocks when I fell, got shredded and ripped apart." 

Sam turns to stare at Bucky. "You were awake? The whole time?" 

Nodding, Bucky goes on, "You don't waste anaesthesia on a machine, on an experiment." 

"But..." Sam goes quiet, and he can hear the others on the comm link also trying to grasp it.

"It is what it is," Bucky replies, his eyes on the table. 

"Why don't you go stop it?" 

"Not the right time." 

"When will be the right time?" 

"When I flatline." 

"Excuse me, what?" Sam blurts out.

Sighing, Bucky turns to Sam. "I 'died' several times during my stay at the Russian guest house." 

If Sam didn't know Bucky so well, he could've been fooled by his bravado, but thanks to many late-night conversations he can see it's anything but easy, the struggle in his eyes. The cloth must have been removed at some point because the screaming's started again, loud this time. It's horrible to listen to, a mixture of "no" and "please, God, no" and even a "Steve...” That one is the worst. Steve never came. 

Sam knows this is going to give him nightmares. The worst is, he knows he needs to stop Bucky, but now that he's here, he's not sure he can. He can understand why Bucky wants to do this. 

After what seems like hours, the room is finally silent, and the doctors put the tools down before leaving. Young Barnes is left alone on the table. They don't even bother covering his body to stave off the cold. 

Taking a breath, Bucky steps out from behind the shelves and walks over his younger self. Following him, Sam tries to breathe through his nose as the smell of blood is heavy in the air. Young Barnes' face... He looks raw and vulnerable, broken and in so much pain. Tears and sweat glisten on his cheeks, his breaths shallow; his left arm is gone but tubes and wires have been connected to the flesh and protruding bone. It hasn't even been closed. 

Sam turns to Bucky, the older one, to see his reaction. Bucky is just staring at the younger version of himself, his face blank, but his eyes... "What are you going to do?" 

"Make sure I get a goddamn break in one reality at least." 

"Meaning?" 

"I'm going to flatline in a couple minutes. I'm going to make sure I stay dead. We've talked about this."

"Strange said you saw your old teammates last night." 

That surprises a reaction out of Bucky. "I was such a cocky little shit, sitting there at the fire, teasing Dum-Dum, smoking my cigarettes and watching Steve as he tried to learn French from the others. They taught him the swear words first, it was so hard to keep my face neutral. He would look at me to make sure they’re not messing with him, but they were, and he saw right through me."

"Barnes, think about this. This is all over, man, it's in the past."

"But it's not, not really, Sam. I heard Bruce back there, every decision creates a parallel universe, remember that lunch? So, it got me thinking, how many realities and timelines are out there where I end up like this, huh? In how many of them do I lose everything, every fucking thing? My life, my body, my soul, my spirit, my friends, _everything_. In how many do I have to stand back because I'm sick and twisted and a demon child for being who I am, someone who likes men? In how many do I fall and become a monster that is so horrible not even parents can make this shit up? In how many do I have to watch him _leave_ , prove to me I wasn't worth it in the end, not worth a single thing as he goes back to the past? I got him when he was sick and struggling to breathe yet I still loved him, all ninety pounds with a seizing heart and lungs that didn't work. In how many realities does _she_ get the strong healthy man and Bucky gets the rest? I'm tired of all of this, Sam. I even thought of going back, you know, switching places with Tony, because he deserves to live, but there was too much at stake. So, it stops here and now. In this new timeline Bucky dies, and he dies the hero the museums and history books make him out to be. In this reality he becomes the bedtime story Steve makes him."

Sam stares in shock and bewilderment at Bucky. "You heard it?" 

"Yeah, he lives a happy life and I get tortured? But it's okay, at least his kids think I'm swell enough to dress up as for Halloween."

"Bucky..."

"No... It’s one timeline, Sam, just one where I get my ending."

"But you'd be dead." 

"Sometimes death is so much better than living, trust me. I'd rather be dead than alive right now." 

Sighing, Sam takes a step closer, his shadow falling over younger Bucky's face. He notices immediately and starts to move feebly, thrashing in an attempt to get away. "Nonono, please... no... don't... God... Stevie... help..."

A fresh set of tears runs down his face and Sam doesn't know what to do. Bucky on the other hand leans closer, placing his flesh hand on the man's cheek. "Shhhhh... We're not going to hurt you." 

"Hurts... it hurts... So much... My arm... gone..." 

Both look at the mangled flesh. Older Bucky's eyes are bright with unshed tears. "I know... I know. I'm sorry. We're here to help." 

"Steve first, get him... out. Please, save... him."

"He's safe, I'm here to help you." 

"Is he... com...ing to... get me?" 

Sam is trying to choke down a sob. He can only imagine what the others must feel, seeing this. He wishes for a moment Hope, or even Strange, came instead of him. Ignoring him, Bucky goes on. "I'm sorry, the fall... He... He thinks..."

"I'm de... dead."

"Yeah."

Sam stands helplessly as he watches the young man breaking in front of them. Steve is not coming. The young man looks back at Bucky. "Wh... ar... you..?" The voice is soft, riddled with pain, hopeless.

Bucky takes a breath. "I'm nobody, just someone who wants you to be free in one life." 

"Huh? Ste...ve, he... okay?" 

Oh God, with how much pain he's in, there's still only one thing on his mind. Sam feels like he's intruding on a private moment and almost wants to look away.

When Bucky answers, Sam can hear the cracks, how hard he's trying to keep from crying. "Yes. He's fine, he will be more than fine. You did good, James, so good... He lives, for so long, he gets it in the end, what you've always prayed for him, you know? He's happy. He's healthy." 

The young man smiles, and God doesn't that break Sam even more. The man actually smiles hearing how happy Steve's life is while he's lying on a table, having just experienced his arm being cut off. "Yeah?"

Bucky nods and a tear finally runs down his face. "Yeah, he gets it and the, the whole world will see what we... you saw." 

"His... heart. Such... a... p... punk..."

"Yeah, his heart. Everyone will see, _she_ will see, and she will treasure it like we never could."

The young man stops smiling and if possible looks even more heartbroken. "Car...ter?" 

"Yeah, kids and grandkids, the whole works. The little punk, all grown up. He will tell them all about you." Both Buckys have tears sliding down their faces.

"Me?" They know what he means. Did Steve really tell them about him?

But that's not the only question he's asking. Sam glances at Bucky to hear what he's going to say. How he wasn't there, how he missed that whole life. The younger Bucky must see something in his older self that Sam doesn't, because a sob bursts through his mouth that sets off a coughing fit. Bucky places his hand under the younger man's neck to help him breathe. Blood starts to bubble out of his mouth and Bucky doesn't even try to wipe it away.

"Let... me... die... please..." The younger man begs.

"Okay..." 

"Sam, you need to stop him." Sam nearly jumps, hearing Strange in his ear. He's forgotten about the others. He steps closer to the table, but Bucky ignores him and goes on. 

"You need to know, no one ever told you, so I will. You. Did. Good. You did so good. You will love him in every universe and every timeline, a hundred years from now or a thousand. He will save the world, twice, he will save the universe, he will save you, in every reality... But not this one, this time _I_ will, this one is new, I will make sure you're saved from unbelievable pain and torture, from losing your mind and heart... I can't take the pain from my own life, but I can from another. It's okay, you don't need to keep fighting anymore. You don't need to keep Steve safe anymore, he's fine now, he will live his life without you, just like this, and he'll be happy. "

"Bar... Sergeant... Stop," Sam tries, wiping tears from his face. 

"Sam.”

“No, listen, Bucky, I am very sorry for this, all of this, but you need to stop. That's why I'm here, you're not creating a new timeline. It won't allow a new branch, if you do this, you will be changing our existing reality.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I can't, Sam. I'm tired. I need to do this, I need to move on, but I need to know I don't become this monster in some reality. Please.”

“I know this is very hard for you, Bucky, but we can't change our past, it's not right, the best we can do is move forward. Take the pieces that's left and try to build something from that. You've made so much progress, you can do it again, it doesn't have to end like this. Without an Infinity Stone you won’t create a new timeline, you would be erasing yourself from this one.”

“Even better, then I don’t have to live with this.”

“Yeah, and neither does 50% of the galaxy…”

“What?”

“Strange came through some portal, said if you go through with this, erasing yourself, you set everything back. Which means Thanos wins, again.” Bucky looks at Sam before he starts laughing hysterically. “Bucky…”

“Please, as if my existence is so important?! I’m a nobody, a monster, you honestly think that whether I live or die here will change _that_?” Sam stares in shock as he listens to Bucky. He really has no idea what he means to everyone? Wiping his eyes, Bucky looks at Sam before looking down at the younger version. “Anyway, it’s too late.”

“What?” Looking down, Sam feels a shiver down his back. There he is, the young Bucky, his eyes open but unseeing, his body still.

Sam reaches out to check for a pulse. “Dammit, Barnes, help me do CPR!” Sam opens younger Bucky’s airways and then starts to do compressions, Bucky just watching. Sam looks up, his voice hard. “I am ordering you, sergeant, do CPR, now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, I wrote before anything else. This idea birthed the story. I thought of this and then the rest came along. Originally Steve was the one who got him, but I couldn’t make it work. I guess now the question is, does Bucky succeed or not  
> PS. It will get better. I promise. It will. It will get so better. Just hang in there.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I woke up one day, blanket around my shoulder, the goats biting my heels, when the warriors came... I asked ‘where's the fight’, I hugged Steve, I fought, I disappeared, I appeared, I fought again, we won, I lost. One week later, I lost again. One month and I lost my home, my friend, my heart... Do you remember what I told you when we started my therapy and you asked me what kept me here, what kept me in one piece for those two years I was in hiding?"

Bucky looks taken aback, but then he reaches out and takes over the compressions. At the same time the portal opens bigger and Strange comes rushing in. “Save him! Now!”

Bucky's eyes are wide as he watches Sam and Strange working. He looks down at his younger self. So young, so naïve about the terrors of the world. Even though he was already hardened by the war, it's nothing compared to what he will be put through.

Strange pulls out a syringe, pushing Bucky to the side.

“What is that?” Sam asks, stopping the mouth to mouth.

“Adrenaline.”

Strange does the injection and he and Sam start over. Bucky walks towards the door, pulling out a gun, his attention already on the danger that he knows will come barrelling down the corridor any second. He glances back to see his friends trying to save his life. He feels strangely detached - they are essentially begging him to live, and he doesn't feel a thing. He mostly feels relieved that one version of him is free, only a little sad that his younger self would never know how two strangers from the future fought for him.

A noise startles him and he looks back to the hallway. “Work fast, we have company incoming!” Bucky’s voice is hard when the first bullet zings past him into the wall. Shooting back, he forces the door closed and places a table in front of it. “It won’t hold for long. Any luck?”

“No…”

“Come on, Barnes, breathe...” Sam begs.

“He has to, he has to, it's vital... we cannot... come so far...” Strange mumbles, but the young man stays dead. Wherever he went in the afterlife, he's staying there. 

Bucky feels a sort of sympathy for these two men, trying to save him. He can’t believe that they think he is so important - how can a mass murderer be important? If he'd never done those things, so many people would be alive, so many technological advancements'd have been made and who knows, maybe Thanos would have been defeated sooner.

He leans closer to them, the ruckus at the door momentarily forgotten. “He's not going to fight, he's got nothing to live for. He doesn't know his importance in your grand plans.”

“You don’t know that!” Sam yells. 

“ _Your_ importance, to _us_ , to the _world_ , Barnes,” Strange adds, before pulling his hands away and reaching into his robe.

Bucky places his hand on Sam's shoulder and waits till Sam looks at him. “I do… better than anyone else, I do know. He gave up. I did too, eventually.” 

“He’s right, I need to create a new timeline,” Strange whispers.

“Thought you can’t,” Sam asks, watching Strange take out the green stone that starts to glow.

“I’m not allowed to, but you gave me no choice. If we want to keep our timeline intact, this one has to branch off.” Behind them they can hear more men coming, the bullets hitting the door that won’t hold for much longer. Strange looks at Sam. “Take Barnes and go!” 

Sam grabs Bucky and makes their way to the portal. Strange follows after them, his arm waving as he manoeuvres the stone. There's bursts of light, then a wave of green and golden sparks starting at his hands and slowly expanding out to the rest of the room.

They're close to the portal leading home when the door bursts open. Bucky takes a last look at himself, on the table, dead. He looks back at the door and notices that the shooting has stopped, but one soldier pulls something out. “Grenade!” Bucky yells as loud as he can before he turns around and without thinking pushes Sam back through the portal. “Strange, come on!”

“You first,” Strange yells back.

“Seriously?!” Strange just shrugs and Bucky rolls his eyes before he places his hand on Strange's shoulder and jumps as the room goes off. The burst of energy propels them forward, the shrapnel flying around them.

Once on the other side, they stand in the middle of the room, everyone quiet. Sam is looking at Bucky, his face still pale and eyes red. Something is off. Sam knows it, something in the way Bucky is standing. “Barnes, you okay?”

Bucky just looks at Sam. He stands completely still, body rigid. Strange's halfway behind him and is already leaning towards him, as if to steady him. “Sam, you should get some help.”

Sam glances between the two. “What's going on?”

“Shrapnel, shoulder.” Bucky voice is soft, his eyes blinking a few times. His hand reaches for Sam, just as his knees give out. Sam is there just in time to catch him as he loses consciousness. His hands are wet with blood.

The first thing Bucky is aware of when he wakes is that he's feeling strangely calm. His right shoulder hurts a bit, but other than that, he's comfortable. His hand is warm and someone's slowly caressing it with soft touches. Turning his head, he sees familiar dark braids.

“Princess.” Shuri looks up and Bucky groans out loud. “Ah, shit.”

“Yes. Shit.” Shuri looks angry.

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?! Look at me, this is me _crying_ , this is me worrying because my dumb brother did something so incredibly stupid! I saw the video, you were supposed to come home, Bucky, you were just supposed to _come home_!”

They saw him, everyone saw him... they saw him break down... they saw him trying to kill himself... he _did_ kill himself... Bucky pulls on Shuri's hand to bring her closer, but she tries to shy away, making him pull a bit harder. “Come here, Princess, please.”

Relenting, Shuri sits on the bed, throws her hands around his neck and buries her head in his chest as she sobs. “Why... Bucky, why?”

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking, I was so angry... I went to destroy it, I wanted to take my anger out on it... and... I held it... and then... I'm so sorry...” Bucky is crying along with her as he holds her close. After what seems like hours she slowly lets go.

“Why did you do it? Why would you go back to kill yourself?”

Bucky pulls her close, tears still running down his face. “Because... I need to believe that somewhere out there, there is a version of me that can be free.”

“How is death 'free'?”

“A version of me that didn't kill hundreds of people, didn't kill a president, didn't kill the Starks, didn't deprive Tony of his parents... and most of all, didn’t get proven right in the end.”

“Proven right how?”

“That I'm not worth all of this, any of this.”

“Bucky! No!” Shuri exclaims and starts crying anew, her head pillowed on Bucky's chest, her shoulders shaking. “You're worth it, Bucky... you're so, so worth it...”

“Maybe one day I will believe it... in that world, I'm the man that deserves to be remembered in that museum, remembered in history books, worthy of being a bed time story, the kid's lullaby Steve made me.”

Jumping up, Shuri towers over him. “Damn it all, Bucky Barnes! You are worth a hell of a lot more than that, and if you can't see it, I will make it my mission to show you. Even if I have to tell you that every single day in big bold letters. So get ready, you are coming home with me tomorrow, as soon as they release you.”

Bucky stares at her, every bit the warrior Princess he knows she is. More than a scientist, more than a Princess, she is a warrior just like her brother, trained in their fighting ways. “Princess...”

“Don't 'Princess' me, Sergeant Barnes. I will get you to see the errors of your ways.”

“I can't just leave.”

“Oh yes you can, and you will. I've already talked with Sam and Wanda and they think it's a good idea for you to go away for a while, so, sorry, I have both of them on my side. And we love you, and we care for you, and we have accepted you as one of our own, and I’m sorry to say, you're stuck with us.”

Pulling the sheets close to him, he looks away to the window as tears run down his face. “It was less than a month, you know...” Bucky whispers softly, more to himself.

“What?”

“I woke up one day, blanket around my shoulder, the goats biting my heels, when the warriors came... I asked ‘where's the fight’, I hugged Steve, I fought, I disappeared, I appeared, I fought again, we won, I lost. One week later, I lost again. One month and I lost my home, my friend, my heart... Do you remember what I told you when we started my therapy and you asked me what kept me here, what kept me in one piece for those two years I was in hiding?"

Shuri looks down, staring at the floor as a small tear runs down her face. “Yes. I remember.”

“Steve. I couldn't leave him, I wanted him to know he was not the only man out of time, there were two of us... and maybe that would have been enough.”

“Bucky...” 

Bucky looks up at her, his lips upturned in a sad half-smile. “I think I’m the only one out of time now.”

Shuri pulls him back into a hug. This time he goes willingly, clutching on to her.

Sam and Wanda come by in the evening. Bucky is eating his dinner and Shuri's in the middle of a rant.

“Hi, can we come in?” Sam asks softly. 

“Yeah, you can, tell Bucky here that _this_ doesn’t qualify as real food.”

“I say it does, it wasn’t boiled...” Bucky defends his plate, smiling slightly. Wanda and Sam come closer and Sam hands him a card. “What's this?”

“It's a 'get well' card, something you give to friends if they are in hospital. We all signed it.”

“Thanks.” Bucky takes the card and opens it, seeing several different types of handwriting. He doesn't read it, just puts it next to his pillow, halfway under it.

“And I brought you some food, I made it myself! Pietro got hungry and I spoiled him,” Wanda says as she puts it on the bedside table, before sitting down and taking his hands. “Bucky... What you did for me... I will never be able to repay you.”

“Just be happy. He's adjusting?”

“Yeah. Very quickly.” She flashes a smile.

“That's good.”

“We will leave you for now. Please just focus on getting better, they will let you out tomorrow.”

“Thanks. For everything.”

“You're welcome.”

Wanda stands up and with a smile walks out the door, then Shuri gets up. “I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be back soon.”

Bucky watches as Sam sits down in the seat she occupied. “How are you feeling?”

“Shoulder's fine.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Sam...”

“You succeeded in killing yourself on that table. Strange had to create another timeline, you _succeeded_. You _killed yourself_.”

“I don't regret it if that's what you're wondering. I feel good about it.” Bucky watches him for a moment. “You don't think I should? What I don’t feel good about is that once again my private life became public knowledge. I had a breakdown, and this time instead of two years in back alleys and shadows it was in the public eye, witnessed by people I respect.”

“You think we're going to respect you less?”

“Sam, at this point I don't know up from down. A part of me however is actually wishing for a cryo tank, or a wipe, wondering if I can order one. 'Hey, one wipe and cryo to go please, extra on the ice.'”

“Barnes.” Sam's voice is stern, to the point.

Bucky lightly shakes his head and looks away. “Don't. Please. I'm too tired.”

Sam keeps on looking at Bucky, while Bucky stares into the distance at something only he can see. “You know... I'm actually happy you are going with Shuri, because I think she can help you much better than any therapy here.” Bucky just lifts his shoulder in response, still looking away. “You also need to know, I care for you, a lot, so please don't get lost back inside your head, okay?” Another shrug. Sam gives a long-suffering sigh before standing up. “I'm going to leave you for a while, Shuri will be back soon. Just take care, okay? Don't worry about anything here.”

Sam starts to walk to the door when Bucky looks to him. “What about Steve?”

“What about him?”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I'm leaving tomorrow. He won't be back before that.”

“I'll tell him what happened, you can maybe leave a letter or something? Then it's up to you whether you want to contact him again while in Wakanda. I do think you should at least say goodbye.” Another shrug.

Sam is feeling helpless, nothing they say now is getting through to him, he is too far gone. Shuri is the only one with any success, and even with her rapport it's going to take a while.

“I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” Another shrug, followed by a slight nod. At least that's something.

At the door he can see Shuri standing to one side, her shoulders shaking. “Shuri?” Sam whispers and holds his arms open. Shuri hugs him tightly.

“He is so hurt.”

“He is. But he will be okay, because he has us, he has you.”

Sniffing she pulls herself to stand tall. “Damn straight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think if there's one person able to get through to Bucky, it would be Shuri. She's been in his head, literally; Bucky trusts her, he loves her, he admires her, he sees her a his little sister, and he is overprotective of her, so he would try to get better for her, he would try to get better because he wants to believe her promises.  
> One more chapter to go, and that's where Steve discovers Bucky's absence.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wasn't there around the campfire telling 'do you remember' stories. I was being tortured, I was being ripped apart while you had a family. I keep thinking about how you lived your life and I was being ripped from mine. I keep thinking whether you even once thought of me, knowing what you know. Did you read in the newspaper about a death and know it was me?  
> I'm angry because the Stevie I knew and loved somehow got left behind in Brooklyn. I'm angry and sad because I know now that when I saw you in Azzano it was a different Steve. You were still my Steve, but not my Stevie. Then again, you weren't really ever mine. But. I was always yours. Always."

When Steve's son drops him off at the compound, he's worried and a little bit on edge. He hasn't heard anything back from Bucky, and Sam's been very vague about him and his whereabouts. Scott meets him at the gate and Steve can see right away something is off. He looks serious, not the usual smiling funny guy. He stands by the gate, his arms folded.

"Scott."

"Steve, welcome back. Had a great time?"

"Yes, thank you. It was good to get away. This is my son JJ," Steve introduces and Scott smiles back.

"Hey, nice to meet you. Nice car."

"Thank you. It's good to meet you too."

Steve looks at Scott, a heavy feeling in his stomach. "Scott, what's going on?"

"Why, should there be?" Scott tries but he knows he's bad at this, Steve sees right through him.

"Scott?"

Scott looks back to the compound, then at JJ, wiping his hands. "Uhm, it's, well... It's better if we talk inside."

"Where's Bucky?" Steve instantly asks, stepping forward.

"Steve, just.... Not here, okay? Not from me."

"Dad, go, we can talk later. I'll call you when we get home."

"Thanks, drive safe, please."

"Bye, JJ." Scott picks up two of Steve's bags and without waiting walks to the compound.

Dreading what's to come, Steve makes his way inside and that's where his first surprise is waiting - everyone's in the common room, with a new addition. A blonde young man.

"Pietro?!"

"Hi..."

"But... how..?" Looking around he turns to see everyone looking sad.

Sam walks up to him. "Steve, let's get you settled in. A few things happened while you were gone."

"Where's Bucky?"

"Steve... Come on-" Sam tries, but Steve stands still.

"No. _Where's Bucky_?"

"Steve, just go with him, it's easier if you see for yourself," Bruce explains and Steve could swear Bruce is looking heartbroken. Numbly he follows Sam to his room. Sam puts the bags on the bed and turns to him. There are two disks on his desk, next to his laptop.

"Sam, where is Bucky? You said 'see for yourself', but he's obviously not in my room."

"He's in Wakanda. He left five days ago, Shuri came to get him."

"Okay. In Wakanda. Why?"

Sam looks at him, takes a long breath. "He had a breakdown. He heard us the night before you left, when we talked about your holiday and how your kids, or JJ, used to worship him... How you told them bedtime stories of him."

"Oh God."

"He didn't take it well. And then he met JJ... Anyway, that night he went to the basement with the sole intention to destroy the machine, but he was in a bad place and he ended up using it instead."

Steve mouth falls open in shock. Bucky used the time machine... Pietro... "Oh God, Sam, what did he do?"

"First of all he went and saved Pietro, he knew Wanda was struggling and he decided to help her. He went to Sokovia, faked Pietro's death and sent him back here."

"And then..?"

"He went to the bunker they kept him in after the fall from the train. He went to kill himself, thinking he's a monster and not worth saving... He was under the impression that he would create a new timeline, that there could be a world where he never became the Winter Soldier, and all that followed never happened."

"But... I don't understand."

"Strange came and told us we must stop him that he wasn't creating a new timeline but altering this one, that should he succeed, he would erase himself, and he couldn't, he was too important in shaping it. So we went to get him, it was actually the morning you called... I lied. Anyway, these two disks will explain everything to you. Watch this one first, then that one. I'll come check on you in an hour." Without waiting for an answer Sam hands him the disks and leaves.

Steve stares at the disks, then finally moves to the desk and sits down. He puts the first one in and waits for it to open. It's a security feed, several videos, starting with Bucky running to the basement. Steve watches as he grabs the controls with his metal hand and freezes.

"No... Bucky..." he whispers softly and pauses the feed when Bucky disappears. It's so dangerous, what he did, no one to watch his back. When he presses play again, he sees them all go to the machine, switch it back on and then Pietro appears.

The next screen is all of them standing in the lab and Strange explaining what they're going to do. He listens as Sam picks up his call, right before they went to get him. Why didn't Sam tell him...? Why didn't he _tell him_?!

The screen changes to a dark bunker, and Steve knows it's Sam's cam. He can see Bucky standing there, he hears the screams in the background. Steve's fists clench as he watches, as he hears Bucky call for him.

Steve didn't come.

He never did.

His eyes widen with every second, filling with tears as he listens.

Oh. Steve gasps at hearing how Bucky talks about himself, about how he became a bedtime story.

His hands are shaking, his heart breaking. The first cramp comes like a steady pulse, painful, but nothing compared to what he's done to Bucky.

“No... no, Bucky, I'd never...” Steve croaks out between shallow breaths.

'Steve', he keeps calling for a man who never came, a man who hurt him more than anything ever could.

Steve presses 'pause' and lets out a loud sob as he covers his eyes. How did they get through it, how did Sam manage to just stand there while seeing this?

After some time Steve's finally able to breathe through his sobs and continue watching. There is a second cramp, a second vice gripping his heart. It feels like his heart is being slowly squeezed.

“Bucky... you were never a nobody... never, you were my... my... everything...”

Another squeeze to his heart, filling with pain for the years he was away. He can't stop the soft whispers falling from his lips as the tragedy unfolds.

“Please, stop him, Sam!”

“You are _not_ a monster!”

“Your existence is important, _so important_ , you're the one who made the future great... I started to live when I saw you alive!”

“No!”

“Breathe!”

“Breathe! Bucky! _Breathe_!”

“No... please... Bucky... come on... fight...”

Steve pauses the recording again as his shoulders shake with new sobs. His breathing's coming in bursts, his arm is aching, his chest so tight... Bucky succeeded, he died. He _died_. He's _dead_. Somewhere out there is a world with no Bucky, a world where Steve wakes up, truly a man out of time, the only one. Alone. Alone... no Bucky... no Bucky... no reminiscing... no fighting side by side, no laughing together in Wakanda watching the goats, no joking with Natasha under a full moon and dancing to Wakandan music... no... Bucky...

With some sort of detachment he watches the rest of the video. They come back and Bucky collapses, the piece of shrapnel... then the hospital. The video stops with Bucky still in the hospital, but fine, just resting.

He needs another minute to compose himself before he can watch the other video. His mind is still reeling with the fact that Bucky did what he set out to do, made sure a version of him is dead. What's worse is that he didn't even need to use weapons, he just told himself that Steve lived a full fucking life without him. He got it all... he got it fucking all... he didn't get Bucky, did he?

Pulling up his last strength, he puts the second disk in and presses play. The screen fills with Bucky's face, he's pale and looks so tired.

The third cramp comes the moment he sees Bucky on the screen.

_“Hey Steve. Boss. Steve? Not sure. Anyway... when you get this, I’m gone. I hereby formally request a leave of absence, a hiatus, a sabbatical, what the fuck ever the term is. I'm not there anymore... I don't know for how long, but probably a while... not years, just... weeks, maybe? Anyway... I, uh... well, I messed up, or didn't, depends who you ask I guess. I should probably apologise, but I will take a rain check on that. I could, but it won't be... sincere. I used the machine. That god forbidden damnation of a contraption. I went to get Wanda's brother - shit, Steve, you guys fucked that town for good, no wonder they thought about... Anyway, Strange says he can stay, so yippee for that. She missed him, she missed him so much, and I know how that feels, missing family. All mine's dead, I think..._

_"I should probably tell you why I’m so angry, it's more than just my feelings for you._

_"I told Sam that if I could go back, I would make sure that I never survived Azzano, or that fall. I think the fall was a better choice, you still needed to get into your Captain role, to lead the Howlies. What does it say about me, wanting to change that, instead of going back to Brooklyn, make sure I never got drafted? I never wanted that life, you did. I wanted you, it was enough fighting for you._

_"Some days I want to yell at you, ask you if you are happy now. You wanted the war, the front lines, you got it. At what cost, though? At what cost? Then I think you got to go back, you got to live your life, and I think, maybe not so high a cost after all. You got it in the end, either way..._

_"Anyway. I think it's time I'm completely honest with you, why I find it so difficult to make peace with your decision. Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for you, Stevie, you more than anyone else I know deserve to be happy. To have something good, something to make you smile on a bad day, to make it worth it. You sure as hell didn't have it when we were growing up, or working, you being sick, or any other time when we were together._

_"I can only hope that that life's treated you well, since I wasn't there to look after you. But_ she _was there, so it was okay. Better than okay. I only could give you a shitty apartment and double dates, she gave you so much more, she gave you everything you deserve, only the best._

_"You know, there was one winter and you were so sick, I couldn't stop praying and bargaining with God to keep you alive. He could have me, if I was worthy, but not you. Not while I was alive. You were real close to dying, so I started talking to you about your life, about how one day you would meet a gal and she would be perfect, that I would watch over the two of you, make sure you're safe. And if you had children I vowed I would take care of them as my own. I would protect your children like I protected you. I vowed that I would show them how to fish, that I would teach them to dance, like I tried to teach you. That whenever they were sick, I would hold them like I held you, and buy them medicine like I did for you._

_"I vowed that I would make sure they would always be better off than we were. I couldn't wait to be 'uncle Bucky'. Their dad's 'jerk' and their mom's friend, the family protector._

_"I never thought that I would be so lucky and blessed to have you in my life, even if you never returned my feelings. And wasn't that a surprise, to find out I wasn't ill, that the serum couldn't fix_ that _._

_"I was never going to marry, not a girl anyway, I could never feel for them as I should, and it wouldn't be fair. I decided to spend my life in the army, perfect reason not to get married, don't you think?_

_"I know I'll be able to move on from you, given enough time. Haha, see that, time... fucking irony._ But I need to heal first. Heal for myself, not for... Anyway, I should get this done, so I can finish _packing._

 _"I'm angry, Steve, because I wasn't there_ for _you and_ with _you. Not once, not ever. I didn't fulfill the vows I made to God when I was begging for you to live. But if He is there, and He chose this path for you, He knew I wouldn't, so it's okay... I guess._

_"I wasn't there to see my family grieve for me, live a life without me, but you were. Did you ever speak to them? Did you ever comfort my sisters? Little Becca thought you were her second brother, you know, that we somehow adopted you and forgot to tell the guys at the, whatever they are called, where you changed your surname... good thing you didn’t become a Barnes, the Winter Soldier kinda fucked that surname for years to come. Anyway, did you put flowers on my grave? You once said in Wakanda there is one for me somewhere, even though they never found a body. Flowers for an empty grave. Fitting. Did you tell my mom that I died quickly, instead of falling for an eternity before slamming into the ground? Did you tell them I loved them and would miss them every single day?_

_"I'm angry because I wasn't there when you told our friends you're getting married. I can only imagine Dum-Dum's face. I couldn't hug you and give you grief about finally settling down. I wasn't there to see your first dance as a married man, see you all dressed up saying 'I do'. I have been with you for so long, I thought I would be there for that too._

_"I didn't see the tears of joy - and I'm sure they were there, even if you tried to hide them - when you found out you're going to be a dad. You, who always thought you'd die before you reach twenty, now a dad?_

_"I didn't see your face when you held that baby, named them, got overprotective when they first fell and scraped a knee, or fought for them when they got into a fight because they're yours, of course they were going to stand up to bullies too. I wasn't there when you celebrated birthdays and Thanksgivings with them and the Howlies. I wasn't there around the campfire telling 'do you remember' stories. I was being tortured, I was being ripped apart while you had a family._

_"I keep thinking about how you lived your life and I was being ripped from mine. I keep thinking whether you even once thought of me, knowing what you know. Did you read in the newspaper about a death and know it was me?_

_"I'm angry because... I'm not angry at_ you _, never at you, I'm angry at myself for feeling like this, feeling like I had any say in your life. Feeling like I had the right, like I was worth it._

_"I'm angry because the Stevie I knew and loved somehow got left behind in Brooklyn. I'm angry and sad because I know now that when I saw you in Azzano it was a different Steve. You were still my Steve, but not my Stevie. Then again, you weren't really ever mine. But. I was always yours. Always._

_"I promised you that I would be there for you always, and I wasn't. Wasn't worth much in the end. Remember how I told you that I didn't think I was worth all of this? Guess I got finally proven right._

_"In allowing myself to die I hoped that I could have one life that would give me the hero's death I got back in the Smithsonian. That there is a reality out there that I got peace._

_"I need to go now. I'm sorry I was mean to you, I'm sorry that I was too cowardly to tell you this in person. That it ended like this. Please don't dwell on this, look at that photo of you and your family and smile for the life you deserved. Not this one, that one. With her._

_"I will contact you when I'm ready. Say sorry to your family, I know JJ wanted to meet me. I'm not ready, maybe I will be, one day. I'm sorry, Steve.”_

The video feed cuts and Steve is left staring at the screen. His sobs have died down, but the tears didn't. The room is silent. He needs to get out. Standing up, he feels woozy, his vision swimming then refocusing. He leaves his room, his feet carrying him down the hallway. Bucky's room. Opening it, he walks in. 

The fourth cramp causes his arm to spasm and as he clutches his chest. His breathing is shallow, short gasps of air. Opening his eyes he looks around. So... void, of life, of personal touches... except... the bedside table... a photo. Two Brooklyn boys, in uniform, smiling at the camera, one blonde, one brunette, both so happy.

The fifth cramp drags him to his knees, his chest constricting, his right arm clutching his left, his body falling to the side.

“Bucky....” His voice is soft, tears running down his face. “Please come home.” Struggling, he tries to get up, his hand pulls a pillow from the bed and he inhales. “What have I done?”

The world darkens. He almost welcomes it.

Thousands of miles away the sun comes up over the forest. A bird chirps loudly and Bucky turns around in bed. The curtains are open, kids are playing outside. It's a golden morning in Wakanda. Bucky feels a smile on his face.

A real one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final chapter of this part. I put Bucky through so much, but Steve as well. I must admit, after all this, I do feel a bit better about him, especially with what’s going to happen in part 2. Both of them will need to deal with this, find a way to move forward.  
> I don’t know if this is a spoiler or not, but Steve doesn’t have a heart attack - he has a Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, also known as the ‘broken-heart syndrome’.
> 
> I am hard at work and busy with Part 2, currently on Chapter 18, and the real angst hasnt even started yet, but i am about halfway. (I think, the original outline was about 20 chapters but you know Bucky...) I think it is safe to say that Part 2 will most likely be twice as long as Part 1.
> 
> We've created a timeline for this fic! Click the image to see full size:  
> [  
>  ](https://imgur.com/u0ogEGA)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on Tumblr for more stucky! We're [CrushedRose](https://acrushedrosestillwins.tumblr.com/) and [kocuria](https://kocuria.tumblr.com) :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Value of Time - moodboards](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19731532) by [kocuria-visuals (kocuria)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria-visuals)




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